


The Liar’s Kiss

by coldflashwavebaby



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Angst, Character Death, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Detective Noir, Don't go in my comments saying I need to change my tags because this is your final warning., F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Mob Boss Leonard Snart, Multi, Post-Break Up, Private Investigator Barry Allen, Private Investigator Kara Danvers, Sort Of, The character death is a main character fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-04-27 01:44:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: Barry nearly brained himself on the edge of his desk as his head shot up at the familiar voice. When his eyes landed on her, his heart skipped.God, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.“Iris...”





	1. Dead men are heavier than broken hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a noir for like two years, and I FINALLY GOT A PLOT I LOVE.

  Kara once asked if Barry was in love with Ralph Dibny. They were sitting together on Ralph’s slightly damp futon, each nursing their second or third glass of scotch with tear tracks dried on their face. For the first time in weeks, Barry laughed. “No,” he’d said. “Of course not.”

 

And it was the truth. Ralph had meant a lot to Barry—after cutting ties with everyone in his entire life and quitting his job at the CCPD, Ralph had been his only lifeline. He came to Barry, offering him a partnership at his private investigation agency.

 

“I don’t like you, and you don’t like me,” he’d explained. “I mean, you got me fired. But, anyone as willing as you were to bring down the Santini’s, without any thought of the consequences, has the makings of pretty damn good PI.”

 

He’d been right. For two years, he and Barry had worked together, solving cases, especially meta cases. The police typically ignored those, seeing metas as menaces to society at best and accusing them of the crimes committed at worst. Barry and Ralph, both being metas themselves, never turned down a meta in need.

 

Their third year working together, they met Kara Danvers. Kara was a metahuman herself, accused of a crime she didn’t commit when a known anti-metahuman politician was murdered. Ralph and Barry found the real killer, but Kara was blacklisted as a danger to society. So, Barry did what Ralph did for him—he gave her a chance. She became their secretary, though she was more like their muscle at times. With her super strength meta abilities and bulletproof body, it was easy for her to help them get out of jams. No one ever expected the sweet little blonde girl to be the one to watch out for.

 

The three of them continued together for another two years, becoming closer than family. Kara was an orphan, as was Ralph, and Barry pushed his foster family so far away he didn’t think they would ever make up. They spent Christmases together, chugging eggnog and rum and singing dirty versions of Christmas carols at the top of their lungs until the three of them passed out on Ralph’s futon.

 

It was the happiest Barry had felt in a long time. But, like all good things in his life, it came to a jarring end.

 

It started with Ralph acting strange. He would stay late at the office when Barry and Kara went out for drinks. When Barry walked into the room, he would throw papers into the desk drawer he always kept locked. He bought a gun he started carrying with him everywhere. He stopped laughing. He became irritable and yelled more. When Barry confronted him, he practically started a fight in their office.

 

Then, one day, Barry and Kara came to work, and the office was ransacked. The lock on Ralph’s drawer was shot off, and his papers were missing. Their casework was tossed. Ralph’s gun was missing.

 

More importantly, though,  _ Ralph  _ was missing.

 

It took them two days to find his body, floating face down in the Central City River.

 

No, Barry wasn’t in love with Ralph. He’d given his heart away years ago, to someone who never gave it back. But he did love him, just like he loved Kara. There’d been a time when he’d wondered, about both of them, if there was more to that love—a drunken fumble with Ralph once, an awkward date with Kara another time—but it all added up to three outcasts who had found a home with each other.

 

Kara and Barry were the only two people at Ralph’s funeral. It was a short ceremony, and the wake had been the two of them drinking near silently in the office.

 

“What’s going to happen to the agency?” Kara finally asked, laying back on the futon with her feet propped on Barry’s lap.

 

He sighed. “We carry on. Keep the business going.”

 

“Find the dirtbag that did this.”

 

He nodded, raising his glass. “Exactly.”

 

They clinked their glasses together, forming a pact: they would stick together, and find a way to avenge their friend.

 

**One year later…**

The fans were kicking up a small windstorm in the offices of Allen & Danvers, but that didn’t keep the sweltering heat from choking the two investigators, kicked back in their chairs.

 

“It’s soooo hot…” Kara moaned. She was already stripped out of her suit jacket, her blouse unbuttoned to reveal the slip underneath, and her hair pinned off her neck.

 

Barry was in a similar state, with his head hanging out the open window in hopes of getting some fresh air.

 

“We should close early and head down to the beach,” Kara continued. “Remember that time the three of us drove there in that piece of crap car that Ralph borrowed?”

 

Barry chuckled. That had been a good day. There was a private section of beach no one went to, owned by Nora Allen’s family and left to Barry after her death. There, the three of them could use their powers with no fear of being seen. Barry would speed across the sand, throwing lightning every now and then to make glass art. Kara would test her strength by picking up boulders she found around the beach and skipping them across the water like they were tiny stones. Ralph would stretch—literally  _ stretch _ —out on the sand and practically melt like a popsicle in the sand.

 

That day, they’d stayed for hours, until the sun slowly set. It was only four days before Ralph went missing. The last truly carefree time the three of them had had.

 

He sighed. “Those were good times.”

 

They fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own nostalgia, neither planning on moving to close up and go to the beach anytime soon.

 

Barry wasn’t sure how much later it was when the shadow cast through their window. All he did know was that neither Barry nor Kara noticed until three gentle, yet firm knocks echoed through the door.

 

Kara flipped her chair in surprise. Barry nearly did the same. They hadn’t had a client in weeks, ever since they helped Linda Park track down her metahuman twin who was robbing places while pretending to be her. Another knock sounded.

 

“Just a minute!” Kara called, pulling herself off the floor as she struggled to button her shirt. Barry did the same, wishing for a second that he could just use his speed to do it. Once they were both decent, Kara cleared her throat.

 

“Come in!”

 

Barry bent down to open the file cabinet in his desk as their door opened. He needed to get some paper to fill out a new client sheet.

 

“Hi,” he called, “welcome to Allen & Danvers. Whatever your problem is, we’ll try to help the best we can.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Barry nearly brained himself on the edge of his desk as his head shot up at the familiar voice. When his eyes landed on her, his heart skipped.

 

Silk stockings ran up to the bottom of an emerald skirt. The pencil skirt hugged her hips all the way up to the deep purple blouse tucked into the waistband. Her long, dark hair was pinned up, curled, and tucked away into a hat. But, what really caught his attention were her eyes. A mystifying brown, with a sparkle behind them that told the story of a woman who never quit, never accepted less than she deserved, and never gave up on the people she loved.

 

God, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

 

“Iris...”

 

Iris West smiled weakly. “Hi, Bare.” 

 

Despite himself, his stomach flipped at his childhood nickname. Iris was his best friend growing up, the first person he ever fell in love with. After his parents died, her father took him in and raised them together. His love for her only grew, right up until the day she married Detective Edward Thawne--her father's partner and the mayor’s nephew. He knew that day he’d never be able to compete for her love, and he didn’t want to. Iris was happy, and that’s all he could ever hope for.

 

He had seen her a few times over the past five years—she was a reporter, so the pair took advantage of each other’s professions whenever they could. Barry always loved spending time with Iris, right up until she brought up her father.

 

Iris was a fixer. She wanted to  _ fix _ him and Joe. She hated the rift between them and the blank space it left in her life. But Barry wasn’t ready to forgive, and he was never going to forget what Joe did. So, their encounters typically ended on a bittersweet note. 

 

Kara cleared her throat, reminding him that he was staring. 

 

He smiled back. “Hey...got another story lead you need us to follow?”

 

Her already small smile faded, replaced by a solemn frown. “No...this isn’t a business call, Barry.”

 

He sighed. Great, another intervention. “Iris, I don’t want to talk about Joe right now…”

 

But Iris shook her head, and that’s when he noticed the tear tracks down her cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes. “It’s...it’s not about my dad, it’s...Barry, it’s about Wally.”

 

Wally was Iris’ younger brother who came to live with them after his and Iris’ mother died. Barry and Iris had been sixteen at the time, and he’d been twelve, but they all got along pretty well. He was like a brother to Barry. 

 

“What about Wally?”

 

Her eyes darted between the two of them as she took the chair in front of their desks--the Client’s Chair. “He’s missing.”

 

The heat dispersed from the room, leaving a chill behind. “When you say ‘missing’...?” 

 

“Three days ago, he left the house midday to meet someone--Harry or Harley or something. It was a guy he’d been seeing a few weeks. He told me he’d be back for dinner, but he never came home.” She reached into the handbag hanging off her shoulder and pulled out a folded up sheet of paper. “I did some digging--five metahumans have gone missing over the past few months. Then, I dug even deeper--over the past four years, metahumans have been disappearing left and right, and the police have done  _ nothing. _ ”

 

Barry nodded along, and Kara looked up from the notes she was scratching down. “Why do you think that Wally is connected to them?”

 

Barry frowned. That was a good question. Unless…

 

Iris was biting her lip nervously. He hung his head. “Iris, is Wally a metahuman?” She breathed out a shaky breath, and he had his answer. “How long ago?”

 

“About six months,” she answered. “He’s like you. A speedster.”

 

Kara’s eyes widened. Barry choked on air. Speedsters were incredibly rare. There were only two speedsters he knew of--himself and the mayor, though he was the only one who knew that. If someone took Wally knowing he was a speedster, they might have more problems than they thought. 

 

“Iris,” Kara said, “have you tried getting your father involved? Hasn’t he realized that Wally is missing?”

 

Iris shook her head. “No. After the first day, I lied and said that he was in Keystone visiting a friend. I thought maybe he was spending time with his boyfriend, but he’d never go this long without sending some kind of word to me. If I go to the police, you know they won’t do anything. Not even for the son of a cop.

 

“Please, Barry. You’re all I have. You and Kara are the only ones I trust enough to find him and bring him home.”

 

He pursed his lips and shared a look with Kara, who shrugged. “We’ll find him. Just give us a few days. Is there any more information you may have left out?” 

 

Iris reached into her bag again and pulled out a slip of paper. “This is his boyfriend’s address. I’ve tried talking to him, but he hasn’t been there the last few times I’ve dropped by. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

 

She laid it on the edge of Barry’s desk and stood up. “I have to get back to work. My lunch is almost over. Call me if you find anything.”

 

Barry gave her a small nod, and she hurried out the door. Just like that, it was like all the suffocating heat had returned to the room. He’d just accepted a case for Iris. A case for the West family. That meant that, at some point, he was probably going to have to question Joe. Especially if the case didn’t end the way they all wanted. 

 

“I’ve never met Wally,” Kara said, breaking him from his thoughts. “What’s he like?”

 

Barry snorted. “Wally is a wild child. He lives fast, loves the thrill of throwing himself into danger. I promise you that whoever this boyfriend is, he’s probably trouble.”

 

“So, he’s kind of like you then?”

 

Barry’s jaw dropped. He spun to face his partner, who was laughing into her hand. “Come on, Barry. You  _ love  _ danger. That’s why you joined Ralph, and it’s why you dated whoever that bad boy was that Iris told me about.”

 

“Yeah, well, Iris needs to keep her mouth shut about my life.” He didn’t mean to come across as harsh. Whenever  _ he _ was brought into the conversation, though, Barry felt every ounce of anger from five years ago spark under his skin. It made him want to scream and yell because the only other option would be crying. 

 

Kara held her hands up in surrender, though, and grabbed her purse. “So, what’s our first move? Track down the boyfriend?” 

 

Usually, they’d spend at least a day doing some research on their victim. Barry knew enough about Wally though. He gave a quick nod and jumped up. When he snatched up the paper, he noticed two letters above the address: H.R. 

 

Had to be either the guy's name or initials. He crumpled the paper and shoved it in his pocket. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Turned out that Wally wasn’t just attracted to the bad boys. He was also attracted to the rich boys. 

 

The address led Kara and Barry into the uptown area, where the wealthy lived to avoid accidentally hobnobbing with those of lower stations than them. How one of them even met Wally, Barry could only guess. 

 

The house was more like a four-story mansion, with marble walls and three Rolls-Royces parked in the drive. Barry took another look at the address in his hand, just to make sure they were in the right place. 

 

“Does your brother have connections or something?” Kara asked as they approached the iron gate surrounding the property. Barry shrugged--as far as he knew, Wally didn’t have many friends outside of Keystone, where he lived with his mom. When he saw the iron twisted letters over the gate, his jaw dropped. 

 

“Uh...Kara? It’s not just ‘connections’.” He pointed to the family name, and Kara whistled. 

 

“So, your brother is dating a Rathaway, one of the richest families in the country.” 

 

To date a Rathaway, you either needed to have money, connections, or both. Wally had neither, as far as Barry knew--so how did he end up dating one of them? 

 

“I guess so. Probably why Iris didn’t know anything.” 

 

“Are you talking about Mr. West?” They both nearly jumped out of their skin. There was a man standing at the edge of the gate, snipping away at the overgrown branches on the hedges.

 

“Yes,” Barry replied. “I’m his foster brother... have you seen him around?”

 

The old man straightened, his back cracking loudly. “Haven’t seen him in a few weeks, since little Hart got kicked out.”

 

Barry and Kara shared a look. So, Wally was dating Hartley Rathaway, the heir to the Rathaway fortune. Or, should they say,  _ ex _ -heir, since the newspaper announced that Hartley was disowned almost two weeks ago. 

 

But Iris said that Wally went to see him three  _ days _ ago. So maybe they met somewhere else. “Do you know where we might be able to find Hartley? The old man looked them over suspiciously, and Barry put on his most desperate, pathetic grin. “Wally might be with him, and we’re getting worried about him.” 

 

The suspicion turned to sympathy. The man nodded. “Last I heard, he was spending his time at that club downtown. Used to be owned by the Santini’s before they got thrown in prison.” 

 

Uh-oh. Barry had a bad feeling about this.

 

“You mean Saints and Sinners?” Kara asked. 

 

The old man shook his head. “Nah, someone else bought it and renamed it. Some family or somethin’.”

 

“Shit…” Barry hissed, hanging his head. “Which family?”

 

“I don’t remember what they’re called,” the old man replied, “but I do remember Hartley talking about the owner. Kept calling him ‘Cole’.”

 

But Barry shook his head and sighed. “Not Cole... _ Cold. _ ” 

 

Kara’s eyes widened at the name--of course, they would. Cold was the biggest name in the crime world. There were few crimes he wasn’t tied to. He ran an entire family of metahumans, despite not being one himself. He inspired fear and respect in everyone he met, from criminals to police. He was known for being crueler than an icy blizzard, but Barry knew better. 

 

There was a time when he would melt at the gentlest touch, and a simple kiss would bring tears to his eyes. 

 

Those days seemed to be long gone. 

 

Barry turned to walk back to their--well, Kara’s neighbor's car. Kara gave the old man a quick thanks and hurried to catch up with him. “What’s our next move? Stakeout the club and wait for Hartley to show up? Disguise ourselves and sneak in?”

 

Barry yanked open the driver side door. “No. We’re going to walk in and talk to Cold. See what he saw.”

 

Kara froze in place as he climbed inside. “Uh...we’re just going to walk inside and demand that the most dangerous mob boss in the city meet with us?” She climbed into the passenger side. “Barry, I love how much confidence you have with me and my powers, but I am not invincible. Sure, I’m strong, bulletproof, and have super senses, but that doesn’t make me some... _ Girl of Steel _ who can go up against a room full of meta criminals. My powers have limitations and, might I remind you, you  _ can’t  _ use yours.”

 

Barry’s heart lurched. That was still a sore spot for him. “We won’t need them. Cold will meet with me.”

 

Kara raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so confident?”

 

“Because he’s never turned me down before.”


	2. As romantic as a pair of handcuffs

Captain Cold. 

 

Mob boss and owner of the popular club The Rogue –a club once called Saints and Sinners, widely known for its illegal activity, with little to no evidence to prove it. His real name was Leonard Snart, but only a few knew him by that, and even fewer knew him as Len. To most, he was ‘Cold’, for his cool demeanor and reputation for being cold-hearted. But Barry knew better.    
There was a time when he knew Leonard Snart better than anyone. 

  
Those times were gone. And now, he dreaded the walk up to the entrance of the club, the thought of seeing Len again. But he promised Iris he’d find Wally. If Cold could help him find his foster brother, he was willing to walk into Hell itself.

  
He took a deep breath and stepped inside, appreciating the support of Kara at his side. A twist of nostalgia shot through him when he realized it was exactly as he remembered –the air thick with cigar smoke, the band playing loud, and drunkards shamelessly flirting with the uninterested waitresses while tipping back their booze. 

 

‘It seems the only thing that really changed is me,’ he thought, making his way towards the bar.   
  


“You okay?” Kara asked, pulling him out of his memories. He sucked in a breath and nodded. He wasn’t a meek, naïve child anymore. He was a PI, a successful one. Ralph wasn’t the best with relationships when he was alive, but he helped Barry build a wall to protect himself from people like Snart and Joe. 

  
He could handle facing Snart again. 

  
They sat down at the bar, Barry’s eyes scanning the room for any sign of the mob boss. 

  
“Same as always?” A familiar, gruff voice asked from down the bar. Barry looked over to see Mick Rory, Leonard Snart’s right-hand man, cleaning a glass behind the counter. He raised a curious eyebrow. 

  
“Mick?” He called. Kara tensed at the familiarity in his voice. “Len has you working the bar? What happened to Shawna?” 

  
Mick shrugged and sat the glass down on the bar. “She left a couple of months ago,” he explained, pouring three fingers of gin into the glass. “Ran off with her boyfriend or something. Cold has me, Mardon, and Lisa covering her shifts.” 

  
He slid the drink down to Barry, who caught it without looking. Mick took a long swig from the bottle in his hand with a snort before putting it away.

  
“She’ll be back.” He smirked humorlessly. “Sooner or later, everyone comes back here.” Then, his eyes moved to Kara, and his somber expression lightening. “Who’s your friend?”

  
Kara, not seeing the attraction Mick was sending her way, held out a hand. “Kara Danvers. I’m Barry’s partner.”

  
Mick raised an eyebrow to Barry as he took her hand. 

  
“Not that kind of partner,” he corrected. “We’re private investigators.”

 

“You’re a dick?” A wicked smirk grew on Mick’s lips, and Kara blushed. “That’s kind of hot.”

  
Barry rolled his eyes. “We need to talk to Len.”    
  


Mick’s attention snapped back to Barry, his good humor slightly fading. “Of course you do.”   
  


“It’s business, Mick. We just have to ask him some questions, then I’ll be out of your lives forever.”    
  


Mick snorted. “Sure. You’ll have to talk to Lisa first. New policy –no one gets to talk to the boss without her approval. Not even you and the pretty skirt.”   
  


Barry sighed. Lisa was not someone he wanted to speak to, especially after what had gone down with the Snarts and Joe, but he’d known coming in that it would be a very real possibility. 

 

He downed his drink and nodded. “Where is she?”   
  


Mick threw back another glass of whiskey and moved around the bar. “She’s in the corner booth. I’ll take you there.” As he flagged down one of the other Rogues—Mark Mardon—to take over the bar, Kara turned to Barry.   
  


“You seem awfully comfortable here.”   
  


“Drop it, Kara.”   
  


Any other observations she had were interrupted by Mick stepping between them and holding an elbow out to her. Her blush deepened as she accepted it.   
  


Mick escorted them to the booth. Not that Barry didn’t know the way—he’d spent many a day in the corner booth, drinking, socializing, just sitting with Len.    
  


He pushed down his feelings as Lisa Snart came into view, her attention on the stage where a green singer was trying to croon seductively. He could tell by the disapproval on her face that they were getting fired.    
  


“Lis,” Mick called. “Someone’s here to see ya.”   
  


Her eyes widened when they latched onto Barry. He knew he looked different than the last time she’d seen him—less cheery, his suit more worn, his eyes a little less light. A smile grew slowly on her lips as she rose from the booth. Being the sister of the most successful mobster in Central and Keystone looked good on her. She was dressed in a long, slim-fitting gold dress, healthier and happier than the last time he’d seen her. She still had that look in her eye, though, like a cat would play with its prey before pouncing. He swallowed hard, but Lisa just smiled.    
  


“Barry Allen.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Damn, it’s been a long time. Last time I saw you, you broke my brother’s heart, and your father tried to arrest him.” She waved for him, Kara, and Mick to sit in the booth, her eyes searching up and down him. “You look like shit.”    
  


“Foster father,” Barry replied, signaling a waiter for a drink. “You know that I had nothing to do with what Joe did.”    
  


“But it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you,” Lisa shot back. “Makes me wonder if I really want you around my brother.”    
  


“Wait, what happened?” Kara cut in, leaning away from the arm Mick had around the back of her seat to whisper to Barry. “Are you telling me that this is the guy Iris told me about? The reason you haven’t talked to Joe in five years?”    
  


Barry nodded, though he would never blame Len for his issues with Joe, just like he wouldn’t blame Joe for he and Len breaking up. Barry didn’t like getting used. For some reason, both men who proclaimed to love him didn’t understand that.    
  


“Who’s your lady friend?” Lisa asked, her attention now on Kara. “She’s not your girlfriend—there’s no way you’d bring her here if she was. She must be the Danvers of Allen & Danvers Investigations.”   
  
His surprise must have shown because Lisa laughed. “Oh, Barry. Do you think we haven’t been keeping an eye on you? Lenny may act like a cold-hearted bastard, but you always thawed that ice. In a dangerous business like private investigations, someone has to watch your back. If a Rogue knocks off a threat you don’t see coming every now and then…”   
  


She shrugged. Then, her smile turned solemn. “I’m sorry about your friend.”   
  


Barry didn’t know how to deal with this. He didn’t want to deal with this. He took a deep breath. 

 

“Can we talk to Len or not?”   
  


Lisa pursed her lip. “No.” Barry’s fists clenched. “But you can. Sorry, sweetie,” she cooed at Kara, “I don’t know you. I don’t know if I can trust you. You’ll have to stay here with Mick.”   
  


Kara glanced over at Mick, who was smirking her way. Barry knew he could trust Mick though, and he sighed. “Fine.”   
  


* * *

  
  
Barry expected to be led to upstairs to Raphael Santini’s old office, but, instead, Lisa led him towards the basement. When they reached the door, he could hear talking on the other side.    
  


“Listen, Cold…Mr. Snart…sir…” He could hear a man groveling. “I can earn it all back…just give me a few days.”    
  


He heard a ‘hmmph’, followed by the cocking of a gun. “No,” Len’s voice drawled, “I don’t think 

I’ll risk it.”    
  


Barry didn’t even think. Before Lisa could stop him, he was snatching open the door and stomping in. “Stop!”    
  


The two occupants in the room froze. One, a young man, not much older than Barry, with jet black hair and a fearful expression, was knelt down in center of the room, staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. Holding the gun was the man Barry had been so afraid yet so eager to see –Leonard Snart.    
  


Snart’s attention was taken completely away from the man on the floor, the cool expression on his face slipping away for a moment, so Barry could see a mixture of shock, heartbreak and…hope? Then, as quickly as it was there, it was gone, replaced by ice.    
  


“Lisa!” he called, his eyes focusing behind Barry. “I thought I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed.”    
  


“Sorry, Lenny. He pushed right past me,” Lisa replied, not really sounding sorry at all.    
  


Barry crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”    
  


Snart raised an eyebrow, turning his attention back to the man kneeling on the floor. “Sure thing, but first, I need to take care of Mr. Walker here.”    
  


The man flinched, but Barry quickly stepped between the two. “No, Cold. Now.”   
  


Snart’s eyes narrowed at Barry, sending a shiver down the PI’s spine.    
  


* * *

  
  
Barry was struck speechless once Lisa and Axel Walker left them alone. Len…Snart, sat behind his desk and leaned back in his chair. He looked…really, really good. Running a criminal empire did wonders for him. His ratty, blue overcoat had been switched out for a navy blue, tailored suit. A new fedora sat in the place of his worn-out hat. His shoes, now propped up on his desk, were shinier than Barry had ever seen him.   
  


He thought back to the days when they would lie in bed, their legs tangled in Len’s sheets, discussing their dreams of the future, what it would hold for them. Everything had been simple—they hadn’t needed anyone but each other.    
  


How those times changed.    
  


“So,” Len drawled, “you’re back. Must be something important if you’re daring to show your face at my club again.”   
  


Barry rolled his eyes. It hadn’t even been five minutes, and he was already done with Len’s shit. “Cut the mob boss bullshit, Len. It’s me, not some street-level punk who’s impressed by your fancy club and shined shoes.”   
  


Len stared at Barry for a moment, like it’d been a while since someone talked to him like that. Then, a small smirk kicked up on the edge of his lips, and he blew out a low whistle. “Forgot about that solid steel spine of yours. Guess five years doesn’t change as much.”

 

He pulled open a drawer and sat glass bottle of scotch and two glasses on the desk. Barry shook his head. “I’m not here to drink. I’m here on a case.”

 

Len nodded as he poured. “So I gathered. Don’t have to be a PI to figure that out. But,  _ I _ need a drink, and I don’t like drinking alone. So, take a glass, Barry. It’s the finest scotch you’ve ever tried.”

 

Barry dropped in the chair facing Len’s desk and accepted the glass that Len offered. The old Len didn’t care about fancy things. He drank stale beer out of a bowl once while sitting on the floor of Barry’s apartment. Barry still remembered the way the light leaking through the shutters had cast a shadow across his face, making him look like a mystery man from a dime store romance. 

 

It seemed that man only existed in Barry’s imagination. 

 

“What do you know about Hartley Rathaway?” he asked, before taking a sip of the scotch. It was...okay. Not worth what Len probably paid for it. 

 

Len’s eyebrows shot up. “Hart? Not what I was expecting. Why do you ask?”

 

“He’s not in trouble…”

 

“That’s usually what people say when someone is.”

 

“He isn’t,” Barry assured. “My partner and I have some questions, though. A missing person…”

 

That had Len straightening in his seat. “This missing person...was he a meta?”

 

Barry furrowed his brow. “...yes. How did you--?” But, before he could get his question out, Len grabbed a folder from the corner of his desk and held it out to Barry. 

 

“Your friend isn’t the only victim.” Barry accepted it. Flipping through the pages, he saw an array of employee files and missing person reports--Roy Bivolo, Kyle Nimbus, Bette San Souci, Vincent Sobel, Janet Petty, Eric Frye, Dominic Lanse. 

 

“How long have you been keeping track of this?”

 

“You aren’t the only friend of metas, Scarlet.” He tried not to blush at his old nickname. “Two of them--Nimbus and Bivolo-- worked at the club. Janet Petty and Eric Frye have both done some work for me in the past, but the others? A cop, a soldier, a pilot. There are no commonalities between all of them, except that they all have meta abilities, and all have been outed to the public.”

 

Len’s expression shifted, like he wanted to warn Barry about being careful using his powers in public, but didn’t know if it was his place anymore. It wasn’t. And, in any case, it would’ve been a waste of breath. 

 

“Is Hartley Rathaway a metahuman?”

 

Len nodded. “Not an exceptionally powerful one, but an incredibly intelligent one. Something about super hearing. I doubt there’s a way for anyone to figure out the truth about him.”

 

“What do you know about Wally?”

 

Len’s eyes widened. “Wallace is the missing person? Damn, I never took that kid for a meta. Suicidally reckless, maybe. But a metahuman?” He took a drink from his glass. “What’re his powers?”

 

Barry hesitated. If it were anyone else, he’d lie immediately. The public didn’t know about speedsters. He and the mayor had made an agreement a long time ago that it would be bad for anyone outside of their most trusted people to know the truth, and they could never tell anyone about each other. If someone unworthy were to somehow gain connection to the Speed Force…

 

But Len was different. He manipulated power. He didn’t crave it for himself. “Wally’s a speedster.”

 

The glass almost slipped from Len’s fingers. “...I thought you were the only one?”

 

Barry shrugged. “Guess not anymore.”

 

“Now I see why you’re so desperate to find Wallace,” Len said. “Don’t want to be so alone in the world?”

 

Barry raised an eyebrow. “No, his sister came to me. Len, do you know Wally’s last name?”

 

Len shook his head. “Hart told me it was Speed. I knew that was a lie, but who am I to judge a kid for keeping secrets? I could tell he was head over heels for Hart, too much to be a pig or a rival.”

 

Barry laughed under his breath. “It’s West. Wally West.” The realization dawned on Len’s face, but Barry couldn’t help rubbing it in. “Iris hired us to find him before she has to tell Joe he’s missing.”

 

Len just stared blankly at him for a minute. “Am I going to have to deal with Lisa dating Iris next or something? What is it about your family?”

 

Barry shrugged again. “I don’t know about the Wests, but I do know that if we don’t hurry up with this meeting, we might have to deal with Mick falling in love with my partner.”

 

Len snorted. “Just wait until he finds out that she has super strength. You know Mick has a thing for women that can kick his ass and men that are soft.” 

 

He didn’t know that, and honestly, it was more information about Mick than he wanted to know. “Wait...how did you know…?”

 

“About Ms. Danver’s powers? I do my best to keep track of every meta in Central City, especially those who find themselves on the wrong side of the law.”

 

“Except she was innocent.”

 

Len shrugged. “Do you think that those cops at the CCPD really care about innocence when it comes to metas? Your little girlfriend can deflect bullets and has super strength--and those are just the abilities they know about.”

 

“I’m not here to discuss Kara,” Barry interrupted. He was ready to get to the point. “I’m here to ask about Hartley. Do you know where he is?”

 

Len sighed and stood up from his chair. “Hartley isn’t in the city. Hasn’t been in weeks. I sent him on an errand for the family. He doesn’t know anything about Wallace’s disappearance.” 

 

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Barry argued. “Iris said that Wally told her he and Hartley were meeting.”

 

“Then either one of them lied, or whoever contacted Wallace wasn’t Hartley Rathaway. I’m willing to bet my position on the latter. We both know how rash Wallace is, how much of a showboat. How much you wanna bet that he accidentally showed his powers off to the wrong person?”

 

Barry didn’t even have to think. He knew that was probably exactly what happened. “Shit…” He stood up and offered the file back to Len, but he shook his head.

 

“I have a copy. Keep it. I like Wallace, and I’d like my employees back.”

 

Barry gave him a nod, eager to leave, when a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.  He turned to glare at Len, but his anger deflated when he saw the earnestness in his face. 

 

“Barry...you’re never going to get an apology from me. I’m not that kind of guy.”

 

“I never expected one.”

 

“...but, seeing Hart and Wallace around here, kissing and slow dancing like a couple of kids in love...it reminded me of us. How we used to be.” He sighed deeply. “I guess what I’m trying to ask is, do you miss it sometimes, too? The times when everything was simpler, and we were just in love?”

 

“Yes.” It was the god's honest answer and the only one that Barry could give. “But none of that matters. What we had then was a lie, Len. You made sure I knew that five years ago. And no amount of nostalgia and wishing is going to change that.”

 

He yanked his arm free and strode out of the room, ignoring the eyes following him as he slammed the door shut behind him.


	3. Not a threat--a promise

Barry and Kara didn’t speak the entire ride back to their office. She didn’t mention how his ex was the most powerful mob boss in the Twin Cities, and Barry didn’t mention how, when he walked back out into the club, she was dancing around, half drunk, on the dance floor while Mick watched lovingly. 

 

He wasn’t the only one mobsters found desirable, apparently. 

 

When they got to the office, Barry gave Kara the file Len had given him, and both read over each report until their eyes hurt. Once the sun had set and the streetlights were shining through their blinds like police lights, Barry declared that they should lock up and return to it all in the morning. 

 

They both lived in the same apartment building--the landlady’s son was a meta that they helped, so they were given discounted rent. Every day, they’d meet in front of the apartment between theirs and walk down to the office together. And, every night, they’d walk back side-by-side, giving each other a small wave as they stepped into their apartments and locked up. 

 

Today was only slightly different. 

 

Instead of waving the second he got to his door, his eye caught something stuck between the door and the frame. It was a sliver of yellow fabric, lined with red thread. His breath caught in his throat.

 

“Bare? You okay?”

 

He looked up at Kara, who was eyeing him worriedly. He couldn’t let her know who was waiting for him inside. It was the one secret he purposely kept from her. He threw on a fake smile. “I’m fine. Just thinking about what happened today.”

 

She didn’t look like she believed him but nodded anyway. “Okay...I’ll see you in the morning.” 

 

He unlocked the door and darted inside without another word, grabbing the sliver before Kara could see it and slamming the door closed behind him. He rested his forehead on the wood for a second to take a deep breath. His patience was already thin, and this was just going to wear it down even more. 

 

“Rough day?”

 

He turned. His apartment was small. There was a living area with a ratty sofa and a chair he bought off of the people who lived there before him. To the right of the door was a tiny kitchen with barely enough room for one person to move around in without bumping into the counters. There was a bedroom off the living room, but it was full of case file boxes instead of furniture, so Barry slept on the couch most days, if he slept at all. 

 

Mayor Eobard Thawne was sitting in the chair, one leg crossed over the other with his signature shit-eating smirk. Barry resisted the urge to sneer. Barely. 

 

“What do you want?”

 

“That’s not very nice, Mr. Allen. I come all this way to help out a dear friend, and this is the reception I get? I’m offended.” 

 

He didn’t seem very offended at all. 

 

“I’ll only ask you one more time, then…”

 

“Then what?” Eobard chuckled. “You’ll try and force me out? We both know you can’t do that anymore. Unless you’re willing to take the chance that you might not come back out of it.”

 

Barry clenched his fists and looked away. He couldn’t argue it. Thawne was right. He couldn’t take him. These days, he could barely outrun the kids that lived below him. He was a powerless speedster, and it was humiliating that Thawne was one of the only two people in the city that knew it. 

 

“I’m not here to fight, Barry. Actually, I wasn’t lying when I said that I’m here to help.”

 

Barry crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, suspiciously. “Why would you help me with anything?”

 

Thawne rolled his eyes like Barry was some simple child he had to explain things to. “Your foster brother is one of the recent meta disappearances. I think it’d be in both of our best interests if, whoever is collecting metas, doesn’t get their hands on a conduit of the Speed Force. Who knows what they’ll do if they figure out what they actually have.”

 

Barry’s eyes widened.

 

“Yes, I know all about Wallace’s abilities. He’s almost as fast as you were, though not as powerful. His connection to the Speed Force isn’t near as strong as ours, but, then again, you and I were created to be equals, guardians of the Speed Force. Who knows what young Wallace’s purpose will be?” 

 

Dramatic prick. 

 

The Speed Force probably chose Wally because Barry was useless. What good was a speedster who couldn’t use his powers? 

 

He shook his head. “So, what do you have that can help us find him?”

 

Smirking, Thawne opened his jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. In a flash of yellow lightning and a burst of wind, the paper was out of Thawne’s hand and into his. The speedster didn’t even look like he moved. 

 

Barry unfolded the paper. It was a flyer--hand drawn with a picture of a gladiator. 

 

**BIGGEST FIGHT OF THE YEAR** , it announced.  **ANNOUNCING A NEW CHAMPION TO FACE OFF AGAINST ‘THE KING SHARK’.**

 

Barry frowned. “What is this?”

 

“A flyer,” the smart-aleck replied.

 

“I can see that. What is this about a champion and a fight?” 

 

Thawne rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so naive, Barry. I’m sure you’ve heard of meta fights.”

 

His heart nearly stopped. Meta fights were very illegal. Some ringmaster would gather a group of metahumans, whether willing or not, and force them to fight for a group of paying strangers. If the metas were lucky, they were paid peanuts and allowed to go home after the fight. More often than not, they were tossed into cages and given slim rations as payment for successful fights.

 

“You think these disappearances…” He felt sick to his stomach. The thought of Wally being forced into a tiny cage, dragged out only to fight his own kind… “Where did you get this?” 

 

“I’m an important man, who has his hands in some rather...iniquitous dealings.”

 

“You mean  _ illegal _ .”

 

“Semantics.” Thawne shrugged. “No one aside from you knows about me being a metahuman, so they assume that, like most politicians and bureaucrats, I despise them.”

 

Barry scoffed. “You know, for a man who claims that he doesn’t, you sure as hell don’t lift a finger for ‘our kind’. What’s the point of being in charge if you never help your own people?”

 

“Do you know what would happen if I did that?” Thawne asked, rising to his feet. “I would be outed as a meta. Then, who knows what would happen? I look out for one person--myself.”

 

He sauntered past Barry towards the door. “Wait,” Barry called after him, “you don’t do anything without getting something in return. What do you want for this?”

 

Thawne glanced back at him, the corner of his mouth pulling into a secret smile. “Let’s just say that you owe me one.”   
  


He continued to the door, pausing only a second. “I heard you visited your ex today.” Barry didn’t even ask how he knew that. “I’d be careful around Snart if I were you. The last PI who went to him for information ended up dead.”

 

With that, he left the apartment in a flash, leaving Barry alone with the flyer. He could either run to Kara now and explain where it came from, or he could have a drink of cheap whiskey from his kitchen and wait until the next morning. 

 

He decided on the latter. 

 

* * *

 

“Wow, you look terrible.”

 

If there was one thing Barry missed about having his powers, it was the inability to get drunk. Hangovers were not fun. Kara gave him a sympathetic grimace as he flinched at the sound of his apartment door shutting. 

 

“Thanks. I had a rough night.”

 

Kara nodded. “Worried about Wally?”

 

“Among other things.” He drew the flyer out of his pocket and held it out to her. “I found this on my table when I got home--some good samaritan giving us a clue?”

 

Kara grabbed it and read it over. “Meta fights? I thought they were cracking down on those.”

 

“Not well enough. This one’s tonight. I’m thinking that maybe the metas that have gone missing are being taken to fight?”

 

Kara shrugged. “Best lead we’ve had so far.”

 

“I bet I know someone who can get us some expensive looking clothes cheap.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Barry and Kara had gone undercover once or twice for cases. The main problem they encountered was wardrobe--they dressed like goody-goody PIs and didn’t have the money to buy new outfits just for wearing on jobs. 

 

Until they helped Cisco Ramon, a tailor and secret metahuman who hired them to help track down his brother’s killer a few years back. As payment, whenever they needed to blend in, Kara and Barry always swung by Ramon and Schott’s. 

 

Winn, Cisco’s business partner, was covering the storefront when the pair arrived. The second he spotted them, his face lit up. “Hey! What brings you two in? Another case?”

 

There was a time when his eyes would’ve lingered longingly on Kara, if only for a second. When they first started coming, Winn had the biggest crush on her, though Kara didn’t feel the same way. Now, if what Cisco had told Barry was true, Winn moved on with some photographer for the newspaper. 

 

Kara nodded. “We need something fancy and expensive looking by tonight. Is Cisco here?”

 

Grinning, he hit the bell on the front desk three times. Cisco immediately hurried through a set of curtains that led to the back room. When he saw the pair of investigators, he rolled his eyes. 

 

“Damn, when I said I’d help, I didn’t think I’d see you two around here all the time.” There was a playfulness to his voice, though, and a small smile tugging at his lips that said their visit wasn’t unwelcome. “What do you need?”

 

“Suit and a dress,” Winn answered for them. “Some rich shindig.”

 

“Meta fight infiltration,” Barry corrected. “We need to look like were influential enough to get invited to one of the most illegal events in the country.”

 

Cisco gave a small nod. “Say no more. Winn, you take Kara and get her a dress. Barry, you come with me.”

 

He motioned to the curtained off room he’d just run out of, and Barry followed him inside. Cisco was an artist when it came to clothes. No matter what Barry asked for, he was always able to come up with the perfect look. 

 

The back room was filled with dress dummies in suit jackets and half sewn shirts. Cisco immediately went for a folded up suit in the back corner. “I think this will work. I’ll need to take it up, but it definitely says, ‘I’m rich and bigoted. People should fight and die for my entertainment’.” 

He held it out. Barry went to grab it, but the second their skin brushed, Cisco froze, his eyes going blank.

 

_ Shit.  _

 

Cisco’s meta ability was unique. He could get visions from people when he touched them or an object of theirs. Once, he swore he blasted someone back with his hand, but Barry was convinced that he’d just had too much to drink and imagined the whole thing. 

 

When his eyes focused again, he leveled Barry with a disappointed glare. “Aw, Barry. You didn’t go see your ex, did you?”

 

Barry blushed as he started stripping. “Maybe…?”

 

Cisco rolled his eyes. “Dude, I thought you were over the whole ‘bad boy’ thing.”

 

“It was just for information!” Cisco huffed and started helping Barry into his suit. Barry frowned. “Why? What did you see in your vibe?” 

 

He didn’t reply for a minute, focused on adjusting his suit and smoothing down the material. “Just…” He sighed heavily. “Just be careful, Bare. He’s a criminal, no matter how charming he can be.”

 

He didn’t say another word about it as he circled Barry, pinning his pant legs and jacket cuffs. He only spoke to tell Barry to carefully take the pants so he could start hemming. It didn’t take long--Cisco was the fastest tailor Barry had ever seen--and then he moved onto the jacket. 

 

An hour later, Barry was putting his clothes back on and Cisco was wrapping up his suit. “Stay away from Snart, Barry,” Cisco said suddenly, his eyes locked on the string he was tying around the suit. “He’s hiding something. I don’t know what, but he’s going to hurt you, a lot worse than last time.”

 

When he handed Barry the suit, his eyes were sad. “You’re one of the only friends I have. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

 

“What did you see, Cisco?”

 

He flinched, like recalling the images was painful. “I don’t know what it meant Barry...but I saw you crying, you in pain. I heard Snart apologizing for something, I saw him yelling at you. And…” he breathed in deep. “I think I saw you die.”

 

Barry stiffened, but Cisco continued. “You’re going to kiss someone, and they’re going to kill you.”

 

* * *

 

Cisco’s words lingered with Barry, even as he and Kara got ready in her apartment for the meta fight that night. Sure, he’d put his life in danger before, but to actually hear that he was going to die and that Len could be the one who killed him…

 

That was crazy. He couldn’t dwell on that. He adjusted the collar of his shirt nervously. Everything was going to be alright. 

 

“What do you think?”

 

He turned to see Kara gliding in from her bedroom. He whistled low. Winn had really outdone himself. Her dress was shimmery gold, dragging the floor behind her as she walked, with a collar that hugged her neck like a necklace and long, gold gloves that stopped at her elbows. It almost reminded him of something Lisa Snart would wear, except not as showy. 

 

He smiled and held out an elbow. “You look beautiful.”

 

She accepted it with a wink. “Thank you.”

 

They strolled out of her apartment, both trying not to think of what they were going to find at the meta fight. When they stepped out on the sidewalk, a black car was waiting for them with a driver. 

 

The man bowed. “Mr. Allen. Ms. Danvers. Your car is here.” He opened the back door and motioned them inside. 

 

Kara gave Barry an excited smile. “You didn’t tell me that you hired a car!”

 

He didn’t, but before he could say anything, the driver held out a card. “For you, sir.”

 

_ Arrive in style, or don’t arrive at all --ET  _

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “I thought it would be better to arrive in a car than walking. Make us look like we belong.”

 

He wasn’t a good liar, but Kara had no reason to distrust him. She accepted it with an excited squeal. “I know I shouldn’t be excited to go to something this horrible, but I love dressing up.”

 

Leave it to Kara Danvers to find the bright side. She practically jumped into the car, and Barry followed. 


	4. Fate sticks out a foot to trip you

 

Meta fights were never in the same place twice. The police raided dozens, all in abandoned warehouses, arenas, docks, once even on a ship. This time, it was being held at the Hotel Penseur, a recently closed hotel that was shut down for having an illegal casino in the lower levels. 

 

Thawne’s car pulled up at the back of the hotel, and Kara and Barry stepped out, following the small crowd heading for the employee’s entrance. There was a man standing in the doorway, with bug-eyes and half of his head shaved. When Kara and Barry approached, he held out his hand. 

 

“Invitation.”

 

Shit, he hadn’t even thought about bringing his flier. What were they going to do now? 

 

Just as Barry was planning how he could get past the man, Kara reached into her small bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Here you go.”

 

She sent Barry an amused smirk as the man looked over the flier and nodded. “Enjoy the show, Mr. and Mrs. Thawne.” 

 

At that, she frowned, but Barry took her by the arm and led her inside anyway. 

 

The hotel was still in excellent shape. Whoever was running the meta fights made sure that the building still held all of the dignity their rich clients expected. The front windows were boarded off, giving the building the illusion of abandonment. The guests all hovered around the lobby, drinking cocktails and chatting. They were smiling, laughing like they weren’t there to watch people fight to the death. It made Barry sick. 

 

Kara gripped his arm tighter. “Barry, look.” She nodded towards a roped off stairwell leading towards the basement. 

 

He raised an eyebrow. “How much do you want to bet those lead to the secret casino?”

 

They looked around, making sure that no one was watching, and began slowly slipping through the crowd...until a hand wrapped around Barry’s elbow and pulled him away. From the gasp he heard to his right, the same had happened to Kara. 

 

“Well, well...we just keep running into each other, don’t we, Scarlet?” 

 

Barry scowled as Len swept him into his arms and led him away from the casino entrance. He flagged down a waitress, who gave them each a flute of champagne. 

 

“What are you doing here, Len?”

 

“Testy, testy,” Len sang. “And after Mick and I just saved you and your partner.”

 

Mick led Kara by her arm beside them, a pleased smirk on his face. 

 

Barry frowned. “Oh my god, are you here to watch the fights?”

 

A distasteful expression crossed Len’s face. “Please, Barry. Have a little more faith in me. I’m here for business, not pleasure.”

 

Barry raised an eyebrow. “Business?” 

 

“Yes. Now, what are you and your lovely partner doing, running for the off-limits area when three guards are watching?”

 

“There weren’t any…” But Len stopped him and pointed first at a fancy column by the entrance, then at the center of the crowd, then at the balcony overlooking the entire lobby. Sure enough, there were men standing there with gun-shaped bulges in their jackets. 

 

“The guards will leave when Amunet comes out to do her big speech,” Len said. 

 

“Amunet?”

 

“She’s the meta in charge of all this,” Len explained. “She runs the fights, someone else funds them. Before guests are released into the arena, she always gives some speech about how the metas choose to be here to prove their worth and yadda yadda. The guards will be distracted, and that’s when we can all sneak down there and find Wallace.”

 

“‘Us’? Who’s us?” Barry asked. Len rolled his eyes. 

 

“Please, Scarlet. You may have superspeed, and your girlfriend may have super strength, but we both know that this is more my scene.”

 

Barry opened his mouth to say something, but Mick nudged him. “Just enjoy the night, dollface,” he said. He turned to Kara. “I am.”

 

Kara blushed, prying her eyes away so she could look at Barry. “What’s the plan?”

 

“We wait,” Len said. He downed his champagne and handed Barry’s back to a passing waitress. “Dance with me, Scarlet.”

 

Barry widened his eyes and glanced around. No one else was dancing. There was music--a string quartet was playing in the corner--but everyone was standing around talking. He shook his head, but Len pulled him closer anyway. He started swaying to the music, one hand resting on Barry’s back and the other holding his hand. 

 

They swayed together quietly, Barry keeping his eyes down to avoid being sucked into Len’s, while Len unashamedly watched every microexpression Barry made. 

 

“Remember when we used to dance to Edith Piaf on the rooftop of the club?” he whispered, like it was a sacred secret, only for their ears. Barry remembered those days fondly, even if it felt like lies. 

 

He first met Len on the job. He’d been an officer in training then, under Joe. The pair of them were investigating a murder at the docks, which were owned by the Santini’s. Joe had made an appointment to speak with Raphael, the boss at the time, and ordered Barry to stay at the bar while they spoke in Raphael’s office. 

 

That’s when Len approached, with his signature smirk and charming demeanor. Barry was lost in the first five minutes. Of course, it wasn’t until two years later he found out that Len had been using him to get dirt from the CCPD on the Santini’s so he could stage a coupe. That stung. 

 

For a long time, he’d hated Len--not because of what he’d done, but because it seemed to poison his memories of all their good times. Being in his arms for the first time in years, though, made it all fade into the background. 

 

Len leaned forward, so his lips were beside Barry’s ear. “ _ Non, rien de rien, _ ” he sang quietly, barely above a whisper. “ _ Non, je ne regrette rien/Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal/Tout ça m'est bien égal _ .”

 

“ _ C'est payé, balayé, oublié, _ ” Barry whispered back, “ _ je me fous du passé _ …”

 

Len pulled away, just enough so they were finally staring into each other’s eyes. Len’s eyes flickered down to his lips, and, for a weak moment, Barry’s heart skipped. 

 

Then, the sound of clanging metal broke their spell, and Barry remembered where they were. He stepped back just as a blonde woman stepped out onto the balcony above them. The metal doors behind her closed by themselves. So, either a telekinetic or metallokinetic. 

 

The blonde woman was in a sparkly black gown, her hair braided into an intricate updo, but Barry could tell this wasn’t the life she came from. Someone put her here...someone who was  _ actually  _ in charge. 

 

Len sighed but gave Mick and Kara a nod. The pair quickly wormed their way through the guests, whose focus was completely on Amunet. 

 

“Hello, my darlings!” she greeted enthusiastically. “So glad you could all make it tonight. Just to let you know, all metahumans who survive tonight, other than my champion, are up for sale at the end of the fights. We have so many special abilities to show you tonight--a meta who can turn his entire body into poisonous gas; one who can turn anything she touches into a bomb; another who can turn his skin to metal!”

 

Barry frowned. No mention of a speedster. Did she not know what she had? Or was Wally taken for another reason? 

 

He was snapped out of his musings by a pull to his arm. Mick and Kara were already in the arena. It was his and Len’s turn. As subtly as possible, Len led Barry through the crowd, like they were going to find a waitress or something. Hopping the rope wasn’t difficult. They didn’t meet any guards on the way down. It was almost  _ too  _ easy. 

 

When he saw the arena at the bottom of the stairs, however, Barry froze in place. It was a cement ring with electrified fences doming the top. Blood stained the floor and walls. The seats where the spectators sat, however, were clean, velvety, like opera seats or some shit. 

 

Barry wanted to burn it all. He wanted the entire meta-fight industry to shut down and for every person involved to be forced to fight to the death for their next meal. He glanced over at Kara, who was staring at the ring herself, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. 

 

“We have to stop this,” she whispered. “We can’t let these poor people fight like slaves for the pleasure of the rich.”

 

Mick laid a hand on her shoulder. “Getting us out with little speedy will be hard enough. Getting out with all the metas they have stashed away, though…”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Barry growled. “I’m not leaving a single one behind. No one deserves this, being enslaved just because of how you were born.”

 

Without another word, perfectly in sync as only two people who have been in close quarters together for years could be, Kara and Barry stormed away, towards the ‘backstage entrance’, and Len and Mick were forced to follow them. 

 

* * *

 

 

The backstage area was more like a labyrinth of tunnels, winding this way and that without rhyme or reason. Barry, using his investigative skills, followed the freshest footprints in the sand covering the floor. That’s when they made it to the first cell block.

When metas first became public knowledge, a problem arose--how to lock up metas who use their powers for the wrong thing. So, a man named Harrison Wells developed a new kind of material. A crystal that drained dark matter from anyone surrounded by it long enough, leaving metahumans weak and easy to lock away. The problem then became the government overusing the material, and Harrison Wells selling it to private contractors. No system was perfect, but there were some heavy leaks in this one. 

 

There were at least ten cells on each side of the corridor, all made of the meta crystal. As they started walking past, Barry could see the weak victims huddling inside the cage, too weak to live and too drugged up on whatever Amunet was probably injecting them with for fights to die. 

 

A crash, like broken stone, echoed through the corridor. Barry and Len both turned, only to find Kara standing in front of a now-broken-open cell, and Mick helping the meta out. The second she was out of the crystal, color started returning to her skin. 

 

“Thank you…” she whispered. She quickly pushed Mick away. “Can’t touch me...when my powers return…” 

 

“Bette Sans Souci,” Len said. “The bomb meta.”

 

She nodded. 

 

A slow smile grew across his lips. “How do you feel about helping us with a prison break?”

 

Bette returned the smile.

 

* * *

Fate sticks out a foot to trip you.

They moved quickly through the halls, Bette and Kara taking out the doors while Len, Mick, and Barry checked the halls ahead. They met their first guards in the third corridor. This one was lined with empty cells, probably for new contenders. Mick and Len took the guards out with ease--there were only three, armed with anti-meta guns. They worked great on metas, not so much on regular humans. 

 

“Two corridors down is where they keep the special metas,” Bette said. 

 

Barry frowned. “What do you mean ‘special’?” 

 

She shrugged. “All I know is that, after each new group is brought in, a woman comes down here and looks them over. Then, she chooses one or two, leads them away, and they’re never seen again.”

 

He glanced over at Kara, who gave a quick nod in agreement. If Wally was here, that’s where they’d be keeping him. “Okay, Bette. I need you to lead the others out.”

 

“How do we get out of here without getting caught by Amunet and her guards?”

 

He...didn’t have an answer to that. The plan hadn’t originally been to do a full-on Exodus. Luckily, Len stepped up. 

 

“If you keep heading back the way we came, you’re going to come to a set of doors. Instead of going out that way, you’re going to swing a left until you make it to a bricked up wall. Blow it, and there should be a dumbwaiter. You can all go up one at a time until you make it to the laundry room. That area is closed, so there won’t be any guards. There’s a door at the back that will lead you to the side alley. After that, you run and don’t stop for anything until you’re at the police station, understand?”

 

Bette, ever the soldier, nodded. “Roger that. And thank you.” She ran back, urging the others to follow. 

 

Barry would’ve been more surprised that Len had a way out if he hadn’t known him as long as he did. Len always knew five different ways out, refusing to be trapped like a rat. 

 

“Alright, enough googly eyes,” Mick growled, breaking Barry from whatever trance he’d just fallen into while staring at Len. He pushed past them and headed for the next turn. “We need to keep mov--” 

 

Gunshots cut him off. Kara let out a scream as Mick fell back, blood coloring his white shirt. Barry and Len ran to his side, helping him sit and checking him over, while Kara--eyes narrowed in fury--stormed around the corner. The shots continued, but she barrelled on. The guns were suddenly silenced and followed by screams and groans of pain. Then, she was back and kneeling in front of Mick. 

 

“Is he going to be okay?”

 

Len sighed. “I think so. He was shot in the shoulder and in the side. It could be serious, it could be nothing. He needs a doctor.”

 

Mick’s eyes were drooping shut. That was not a good sign. 

 

“Kara, get him out of here,” Barry ordered. “Take the limo and get him to Cait. Len and I will get Wally.” 

 

She didn’t need to hear it twice. Without hesitation, Kara scooped Mick into her arms and hurried away, whispering reassurances to him as she went. Once they disappeared from sight, Barry relaxed a bit. 

 

“She’ll make sure Mick is safe,” he told Len. “I trust Kara with my life, and Cait is a good doctor. Mick will be fine.”

 

Len didn’t seem comforted, but then again, Mick was his best friend. Besides Lisa, Mick was all he had in the world that he could depend on. “Let’s go.”

 

He kept moving, his gun raised now, Barry right behind him, weaponless and powerless. They didn’t encounter any more guards, and once they entered the jail for the ‘special’ metas, Barry understood why. There were cells, but there were no sad gazes or hopeless sighs or cries for help as they passed. 

 

No, instead, each cell had a body inside, blank and lifeless, their eyes staring up at the ceiling as they laid out on their cots. There was no question that they were dead, but there were no marks he could see that indicated how they died. 

 

“Len…”

 

“I see it.”

 

He was pale, his mouth pulled into a guilty frown. Barry couldn’t blame him. If only they’d all gotten there sooner, looked into meta fights sooner, these people wouldn’t have had to die. 

 

“Why?” he wondered aloud as they crept through the eerily quiet corridor. “Why would someone do this? Why take them just to kill them?” 

 

“A good question, darling,” an accented voice said behind them. Barry and Len spun around to see Amunet blocking their only way out. “Too bad you won’t be around to find out.” 

 

She dropped a bag on the floor. It clanged loudly.  _ Shit.  _

 

Amunet held out her hand, and scraps of metal levitated from the bag.

 

“Barry,” Len whispered. “Get us out of here.” 

 

He shook his head, fear settling in his chest. “I can’t.” 

 

Len rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if she knows what you are. We need to get out of here!” 

 

“No, I mean  _ I can’t _ . I don’t have my powers anymore!” 

_ “What?!”  _

 

Amunet used that chance to fire the metal shards at them. Len barely had enough time to push Barry to the ground. 

 

“Run!” Barry screamed as Amunet readied herself to fire again. Len threw his body over Barry’s as they ran down the corridor, firing his gun blindly behind him. They rounded the next corner, only to find a dead end. 

 

Dead. Hilarious. 

 

There was a metal door at the end of the hall, and Len dragged Barry towards it. 

 

“Wait, we don’t know what’s in there!” 

 

Len snorted. “Better than what’s out here!” 

 

Which was a valid point. There was no lock on the door, so Len threw it open and shoved Barry inside. He followed and slammed the door shut behind him. 

 

“Barry, find something to brace the door!” Len called out, but Barry was frozen in place. The room they were in was another cell, but larger than the others. There was a bed with straps in the back corner and a stand-up tray with half of a dozen syringes beside it. The floor was brick, covered in liquids that Barry didn’t even want to think of. There was only one light in the entire room--a dangling lightbulb over the center of the room, shining down like a spotlight. And, underneath that spotlight, was a man. 

 

The man was malnourished, frail. His face was dirty, his clothes torn. There was a crystal collar around his neck, attached to a chain in the floor. His hands were cuffed behind him. His lip, though Barry didn’t even know how it was possible, was bleeding. 

 

Barry approached the man slowly, tears already forming in his eyes. He fell to his knees, his entire body shaking with the effort it took not to scream or sob. 

 

He reached out. “Ralph?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious, Barry and Len sing "Non je ne regrette rien" by Edith Piaf. It's in French, but I love listening to her, so her songs are going to be a running thing in this story :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading ^_^


	5. They said they’d let me breathe

It couldn’t be. It was impossible. There was a body, an investigation. 

 

But, the proof was in the pudding. And there was a whole puddle of it right in front of him. Ralph raised his head, flinching like even the smallest movement hurt him. When his eyes landed on Barry, he squeezed them shut. 

 

“No...not this. You’re not really Barry…I’M NOT FALLING FOR THIS!” he screamed to the ceiling. “You’re not getting him...you aren’t getting either of them...I’ll die first…” 

 

Barry’s heart shattered. Ralph looked so weak, so broken, yet he was still fighting for something. Still that hard-headed son of a bitch he worked with. “Ralph,” he whispered. “Ralph, it is me. It’s Barry. I’m really here.”

 

Ralph just shook his head. “No, this is an illusion. Another illusion, trying to break me, trying to make me give into him like the others did. He wants something from me, though...I won’t give him what he wants.”

 

“Barry!” Len shouted from where he was leaned against the door, just in case Amunet tried to get inside. “We gotta get out of here, now!” 

 

When Ralph’s eyes moved from Barry to Len, they widened with fear. “Snart...what are you…?” He started panicking, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath and tried crawling away from the mobster.

 

Barry frowned and reached out to touch his face. “Ralph, it’s okay. It’s me. Len helped me find you. We’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

 

Ralph furrowed his brow and looked-- _ really looked this time _ \--at Barry. “Rookie?”

 

Barry nodded, his eyes wet with tears. “Yeah, Ralph. It’s really me.”

 

Something slammed against the door. Barry and Ralph both jumped, and Len pushed hard to keep it from opening. “She’s trying to get in!” Len growled. “With her powers, it’s not gonna take long!” 

 

Barry looked over the collar around Ralph’s neck. Sure, it was designed to keep meta powers in, but the only thing keeping it on was a padlock. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his lock pick. 

 

He wasn’t the best lock picker--that was always Ralph, thanks to his powers--but he’d gotten better over the last year. He went to work on the padlock, humming to himself to lower his anxiety. 

 

“Barry!” 

 

“I’m going as fast as I can!” he shouted back. He didn’t know what the plan was after they got Ralph free, but at least they could try to get away. Maybe Barry could push through his block, channel the Speed Force to buy Ralph and Len some time to get away…

 

The door flew open just as the lock clicked. 

 

Amunet strode in, murder in her eyes...and a huge fist hit her square in the jaw, knocking her out cold to the ground. 

 

Ralph’s fist crept back to his body as his other hand melted free from the cuffs. He was panting, like just that small shot of power was enough to drain him. Barry caught him just as he fell face first towards the floor. 

 

“Len, help me!”

 

* * *

 

 

They all met up in a safe house on the edge of Central, one that overlooked the river and the skyline of the city. Dr. Caitlin Snow was stitching Mick’s shoulder up when Len and Barry carried an unconscious Ralph inside, yelling for help. 

 

Kara ran to their side, wide-eyed and confused. “Oh my god...how?”

 

“I don’t know,” Barry replied. “But he’s weak, and I don’t know what they did to him.” 

 

Kara scooped him into her arms, and Len pointed her in the direction of the bedroom. Caitlin raised an eyebrow as she tied off her thread. “Do I want to know what happened tonight?”

 

Barry shook his head. “Saw your old boss today, though. She tried to kill us.”

 

Caitlin snorted. “I’ll bet.” She grabbed her bag and headed for the bedroom to check on Ralph. 

 

“‘Old boss’?” Len asked, tilting his head with a frown. 

 

“Caitlin used to be one of our informants,” Barry explained. “She worked at Amunet’s bar, back when she was just a low level hustler. She was the one who really started the meta fights, but I had no idea that Amunet was the power behind fights like that.”

 

“She isn’t. You heard Bette--someone was working on those other metas. I’d bet my entire empire that their the ones paying Amunet’s bills.”

 

Len limped into the room towards Mick, who was passed out in his armchair, and Barry gasped. There were three shards of metal stuck in Len’s back. 

 

He hurried to Len’s side. “You’re hurt. Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Len raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you say anything about not having your powers anymore?” 

 

Barry’s lips pulled into a tight line as he led Len over to the couch and sat him down. Silently, he picked up some bandages and gauze Caitlin had left behind and lifted up the back of Len’s shirt. 

 

His jacket had been lost somewhere on their walk from the hotel. The metas had stolen the car that Len and Mick used to get there, some even started a fight with the rich people in the hotel. Barry tried not to feel bad about not helping, but those people made their decisions. That’s what Len had whispered anyway while they pushed through the crowd towards the exit. 

 

Len hissed as his shirt brushed against the metal. Luckily, Barry noticed, the shards weren’t too big and didn’t go in too deep. He could probably take them out easily and just wrap up Len’s back. 

 

He went to work, pulling the pieces out as quickly and painlessly as possible. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question came out weak, quiet, broken, and it made Barry feel guilty all over again. He placed a piece of gauze over the first wound and began wrapping it. 

 

“I haven’t told anyone,” he answered somewhat honestly. “Kara knows--she was there when I found out. Not many people knew about my powers in the first place, though, so…”

 

“You put your life in danger tonight. You couldn’t run, couldn’t heal, didn’t even have a  _ weapon _ .” Len sounded angry, but more that protective angry he used to get when Barry would mouth off to a Santini or go walking in the wrong neighborhood alone. 

 

“I’ve been putting myself in danger for almost a year. Besides, I don’t think the Speed Force will let me die.”

 

Len glanced back at him. “What happened? To your powers?”

 

Barry sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it, but Len wouldn’t be dropping it anytime soon. “It was around the time Ralph disappeared. He was off investigating... _ something _ , I don’t know, and Kara and I were looking into another case.”

 

He started on the last wound. “There was a break-in at Mercury Labs. The thief stole a formula, something that replicated a speedster’s speed. We spent weeks searching, but we didn’t find who stole it until ten days after Ralph’s body was found in the river.”

 

Or wasn’t found. If that body wasn’t Ralph’s, whose was it? Who had died so that Amunet and her benefactor could fake Ralph’s death? 

 

“His name was Hunter Zolomon. He was a psychopath, a serial killer who thought the formula would make him powerful enough to run the city. We had him on the ropes, but we didn’t have enough evidence to call the police. When we came to work one morning, he was sitting in our office with an anti-meta weapon.

 

“You have to remember,” Barry said, “I was a mess. I’d lost almost everything. Kara was all I had left to hold onto. Zolomon was going to kill us both—or at least, kill Kara and then find a way to take my speed.”

 

Len turned to face Barry, his eyes full of sorrow and pity. “God, what did you do?” 

 

Barry squeezed his eyes shut. The aftermath had been terrible, and Kara wouldn’t look him in the eye for days afterwards. “I don’t remember what I did. The Speed Force surged in me, and I blacked out. When I woke up, Zolomon was gone. Kara wouldn’t tell me what happened—still won’t. She just kept telling me that Zolomon was dead. Ever since that day, I haven’t been able to heal or run, and if I even try to access the Speed Force…”

 

“You black out,” Len finished for him. Barry nodded. “What happens during those black outs?”

 

Barry shook his head. “I don’t know. I only tried one more time after that, and I was alone, but I woke up three hours later in Star City with no memory of how I got there. I don’t even know if I hurt anyone that time, but I can’t take the chance that I might. I can’t use my powers.”

 

Len raised his hand, like he wanted to comfort Barry but wasn’t sure if he was welcome to. Barry didn’t want to be comforted, though. He didn’t want people to feel bad for him or look on him with pity. He flinched away from Len’s hand and rose to his feet, just as Caitlin came back into the room. 

 

“He’s awake,” she announced. “And he’s asking for you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ralph looked like shit. There was no getting around that. But, when Barry walked into the bedroom, his face instantly lit up. 

 

“Barry...I wasn’t imagining you there.” 

 

Barry fought back the tears of joy threatening to spill and strode over to Ralph’s bedside. Wordlessly, he fell to the bed and wrapped his arms around his partner’s neck. “Don’t do that to us again,” he whispered. “I can’t take any more loss.”

 

“Promise, Rookie.” 

 

Barry relaxed in his friend’s arms until someone cleared their throat behind him. He pulled away. Len was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom, watching them with narrowed eyes. “Nice to see you in the land of the living, Dibny,” he drawled, slipping into his mobster persona. “It’s a miracle.”

 

Ralph shook his head. “Not a miracle...a friend. I befriended a meta when I first became a PI named Hannibal Bates. Bates could shapeshift into anyone. I thought I was being followed, so I asked Hannibal to change into me so I could investigate privately. I never thought it would get him killed, though…”

 

“That’s tragically convenient that they ‘accidentally’ knocked off the wrong Dibny.”

 

Barry frowned at Len’s hostile demeanor, but Ralph just shrugged. “Maybe they did it on purpose. They did keep me locked up for months. They had plenty of chances to kill me, but they didn’t.”

 

Len hummed. “And what exactly  _ did  _ they do to you there? Because, from my point of view, you were the only meta in that hallway who was still breathing when we found you.”

 

Distress fell over Ralph’s face, and Barry shot a glare at Len. “That’s enough! He’s been through hell, Len. I get you’re protective and suspicious, but Ralph’s been through something traumatic! Give him some air.” 

 

Kara came running in the room just as Len turned to leave, sending one last glare back at Ralph before he did. 

 

Kara watched him leave with a frown. “What’s wrong with him?”

 

Barry shrugged.

 

* * *

 

Barry, Kara, and Ralph spent the next few hours catching up. It was almost like no time had changed at all. They laughed, they cried, they discussed cases. 

 

None of them mentioned Barry’s powers or Ralph going missing. Those were issues for another day. For now, they all huddled on the bed like teenagers and just enjoyed each other’s company. Eventually, Kara dozed off, her head on Barry’s shoulder, and Ralph suggested they go and talk somewhere else while she slept.

 

“Can you move around?” Barry asked as Ralph slid to the other side of the bed. “Don’t you need rest?”

 

“I’m not an invalid,” Ralph replied with a roll of his eyes. “Trust me, those people had me moving around enough while they had me captive. I’ll be fine.”

 

He rose to his feet and shuffled towards the door. Barry quickly moved Kara onto one of the pillows and ran to join Ralph. Len and Mick were out on the balcony off the living room, talking and, in Mick’s case, smoking. They had their backs to them, but seemed to be in the middle of a serious discussion. Ralph headed towards the kitchen, and Barry followed. 

 

“You know we’re going to have to talk about what happened to you sooner or later,” Barry said, leaning against the counter. “Cabinet above the sink.”

 

Ralph raised an eyebrow, but went for the cabinet anyway. He smiled as he pulled out a half empty bottle of booze. Right where Len always kept it. Barry grabbed two glasses out and slid them to his friend.

 

Ralph started to pour. “So...you and Snart back together?”

 

Barry snorted, glancing back towards the living area. “No. This is the first time I’ve seen him since that day I came to your office and we got drunk.”

 

A drink was pushed in his eyeline, and he turned to see Ralph giving him a tight smile. “Sorry. Rough subject.”

 

Barry accepted the drink with a sigh. “It’s not your fault. Today, though, I think...I think I saw another side of him. Like the Len I knew was back.”

 

“I thought you always said that the Snart you knew didn’t really exist.”

 

Barry shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Isn’t it worth finding out?”

 

Something flickered behind Ralph’s eyes. “I don’t trust him. Not after everything he’s done.”

 

“He helped save you, Ralph.”

 

“I know…” There was something in his voice that said there was more to it than what he was saying. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

 

“You said that.”

 

“No.” Ralph shook his head. “I meant what happened a year ago. Snart...he wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t an accident that Hannibal was murdered.”

 

Barry frowned. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I wasn’t investigating the meta human fights. I didn’t even know about it until tonight. That hotel isn’t always used for fights, but it’s the headquarters of someone dangerous and powerful. That’s who I was investigating.”

 

“Who? The person pulling Amunet’s strings?”

 

Ralph nodded. “People. Clifford and Marlize Devoe. They’re both genius, way beyond anything I could dream of, but Clifford Devoe’s brain was enhanced by dark matter.”

 

“He’s a metahuman,” Barry said. 

 

“Yep. And a twisted one at that. He wants to be powerful, become the superior meta or something...I don’t know. He started kidnapping metas though. Special ones who had abilities he needed. He was smart about it, too. He funded Amunet, who already kidnapped metas for her fights, so that she would give him the ones he wanted. 

 

“I found the pattern, though...well, I found someone who found the pattern. That’s when I found out that, to hold in all of the abilities he’d been stealing, Devoe needed a body that could expand and fix itself.”

 

“He was going after you,” Barry realized. 

 

Ralph gave a nod. “I knew that they would send Amunet after me. I couldn’t tell you or Kara, because you’d try to be all heroic and then, Amunet would have two of the most powerful metas I’ve ever met, the two most important people in my life, in her meta fights. All because of me. So, I ran. I had Hannibal shapeshift into me, hoping it’d give me a chance to get a head start--maybe I could find a way to stop them on my own. But then, I heard about my body being found, and I did something stupid and reckless.”

 

Barry closed his eyes, exasperated. “Please don’t tell me you went to your own funeral.”

 

“I had to!”

 

“Oh my god! Of all the narcissistic…”

 

“How many times do you get to attend your own funeral, Barry? Anyways, I was going to go to you and Kara, tell you what was happening and try to get help, but Devoe was too smart for me. He knew I’d try to contact you two, so he put eyes on you. Amunet caught me before I could even get close.” 

 

He hung his head, flinching like he could remember every little thing that happened over the years. “I was lucky, Bare.”

 

Barry’s heart ached. Ralph never called him ‘Bare’ unless he was hurting. 

 

“I was lucky, because out of all those other metas you found dead, only three of them were taken before me. Devoe was saving me, waiting for the right moment to steal my powers and lock away my corpse. I thought about you every day. I kept thinking ‘better me than Barry’. Sometimes, I’d imagine you saving us all--you and Kara coming in like a couple of superheroes. But then, Devoe would get in my head and twist the images. He would capture you both, throw Kara into the fighting ring, and then drain you right in front of me. Once, he used his powers to make me think your body was in the cell with me for twelve hours.”

 

He drank his drink like it was the only thing that would give him the strength to move past it all. Barry followed his lead, a warmness filling his chest. He set the glass down and pulled Ralph into his arms. “Nothing’s going to come between us again, Ralph. I promise.”

 

“I know, Barry,” Ralph whispered back, pressing a kiss into his hairline, like one would a child. “I know you won’t.”


	6. Love's such an old fashioned word

Len glared into the kitchen, his fists and teeth clenched. Barry was practically melting into his old partner’s arms, reunited after a year apart.

 

Usually, Len would be happy for him.

 

Usually. 

 

There was something about Ralph Dibny that rubbed him the wrong way, though. And it wasn’t the way he burrowed his face into Barry’s hair. 

 

“You’re turning that shade of red that means someone’s gonna die,” Mick pointed out. He followed Len’s glare to the kitchen, where Ralph was pulling away from Barry, the pair laughing about something. Len’s eyes narrowed. “Damn, you got that big of a problem with Stretch?”

 

“I don’t trust him.”

 

“Because of how close he’s getting to your boy, or because he knows you’re a lying sack of crap?”

 

“Mick…” Len warned. Barry didn’t know about his hand in things, the truth about Wallace’s disappearance. And  _ he  _ didn’t know how much Dibny knew. Dibny might act like an idiot, but Len knew better than anyone that he was a damn good detective. What if he knew about the part Len played in other...unsavory businesses? What if he told Barry about them? 

 

He was just getting Barry back. He couldn’t lose him again. 

 

“This about the kid?” Mick asked. “You did what you had to--protected your own.”

 

“Barry wouldn’t see it that way,” Len pointed out. “He’d see me as the lying criminal his foster father made me out to be.”

 

Mick snorted. “Barry doesn’t give a shit about you bein’ a criminal. He doesn’t like it when you’re being a lying jackass. You treat like he’s some stupid kid that can’t think for himself. Maybe if you fucking trusted him with the truth, he’d surprise you.” 

 

He knew that. Of course he did. But what if they were both wrong and he lost all hope of them getting back together? 

 

Barry grabbed his coat off the back of the couch and headed for the door. Len frowned and ran inside from the balcony, but Barry was already gone by the time he got in. He turned to Ralph. 

 

“Where the hell is he going?”

 

“He went to get some dinner from the deli down the street.”

 

“ _ By himself?”  _ He prepared to grab his jacket and go running after him--Barry was weaponless, powerless, with mobsters out looking for them--but Dibny’s stretched arm caught him before he could. 

 

“Barry knows the dangers. He’s smart.” Len glared at the hand, which was quickly retracted. “Besides,” Ralph added, “the only person who saw him was Amunet, right? How good of a look at him do you  _ really  _ think she got?”

 

It didn’t settle the worry in Len’s stomach, but he nodded. “Fine. Ten minutes, and if he’s not back, I’m going after him.”

 

Ralph gave a nod of agreement. They both fell silent as Mick stepped into the room, going straight to the kitchen. He walked back out with a bottle of booze and headed to the bedroom, where Kara was still probably sleeping. 

 

The lovesick dope was probably going to sit at her bedside with a book until she woke up. Len tried not to snort at that. 

 

“Can I ask you something, Snart?”

 

Len’s attention went back to Ralph, who was looking him over suspiciously. He raised an eyebrow, which he seemed to take as a yes. 

 

“What’s your game here? With Barry, I mean.”

 

Len scoffed. The balls on this guy. “That’s none of your business, Dibny. In fact, I’m more concerned with what  _ your  _ plans are with him because I highly doubt you were a prisoner for the entire year you were missing.”

 

“Quite an accusation. Go ahead--tell me why.”

 

Len crossed his arms over his chest. “Your hair. It’s cut neat and tidy, and there isn’t a speck of stubble on your face. You’re very well groomed, in fact.”

 

Ralph smirked. “That’s what you’re basing this on?  _ My hair? _ ”

 

“That….and…” He made a quick, threatening move at Ralph, who didn’t even flinch away. “You’re not shaky, or scared. There’s no worry in your eye. You don’t flinch, like someone who’s been locked away and tortured would. You don’t squint at the lights like you would if you’d been in that cell for a whole year. And then, there’s the door.”

 

“The door?”

 

“Your cell door. It was the only one in the corridor and was unlocked. Convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Ralph nodded. “Smart, Snart. You’re not as moronic as I expected. What are you going to do with all of this so-called ‘evidence’?”

 

Len stepped forward, so he was in Ralph’s face. “I’m going to tell Barry,” he hissed. “This is about him--that’s why you’ve barely paid any attention to Kara since you’ve gotten back. I’m going to warn him, and I’m going to stop you from hurting him.”

 

“I’m not the one that’s hurting him.” Ralph’s legs stretched, so he towered over Len. “I know a lot about your operations, Snart. And I could raise a lot of questions to Barry, like what were you doing at the meta-fight in the first place?”

 

Len accidentally took a step back. 

 

Ralph’s smirk grew. “Or, what really happened to Wally West? Why wasn’t he being held by Amunet? With all the excitement of finding me, I’m sure Wally’s disappearance has slipped Barry’s mind for a minute, but it will come back and soon. Then, there’s my favorite question: how does Amunet find all of those wonderful metas, but none of them are your loyal Rogues?”

 

“That’s not true…”

 

“Oh, yes...the hitman and the mood manipulator. The same metas who were there at the club the night before Amunet grabbed me when I came to you for help. Interesting.”

 

There was something dark behind Ralph’s eyes, something twisted that he’d never expected from the detective. He winked at Len and pushed past. 

 

“Enjoy your time with Barry, Snart. While you still have it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Kara hadn’t meant to fall asleep. If there were an attack, she was the best line of defense they had. But the events of the night had taken their toll on her, and, in the comfort of her best friends’ voices, she found peace. 

 

When she did wake up, it was about an hour later. Barry and Ralph were both gone, she was tucked in on the bed, and the only light on in the room was a lamp in the corner. Sitting in the chair under it was Mick Rory, glasses resting on the end of his nose and a thick book in his hands. 

 

He didn’t seem to notice she was awake, his attention trapped in his novel. She grinned.

 

“Are you guarding me or something?” 

 

Mick didn’t act surprised at her voice, only raised his head and removed his glasses. “Never know, he grunted more than answered. “These monsters are tricky. No one should be left vulnerable.”

 

Kara raised an eyebrow. “You do know that I’m bulletproof and you’re not? Even if they tried shooting me in my sleep or something, they couldn’t.” 

 

Mick shrugged. “It’s my job. I protect people, even ones who can protect themselves.”

 

Kara smiled. “Thank you.”

 

“Besides,” Mick said, marking his page and setting his book to the side, “you saved my life, Skirt. You’re the first person to ever do that, including Snart. I owe you a debt.”

 

Kara sat up and shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything, Mick. If it weren’t for you and Leonard, we wouldn’t have found all those metas. We wouldn’t have found Ralph. I’m just sad we couldn’t find Wally.”

 

Mick chuckled. “That’s who you two were looking for?”

 

“Yeah,” Kara answered. “His sister is Iris. She came by and hired us to find him. She hasn’t heard from him in days…”

 

“...and she figured that, since he’s a speedster, he was part of the meta kidnappings.”

 

Kara opened her mouth to agree but froze. “You know?”

 

Mick snorted. “Bout being West’s brother? No. But him being a speedster? Course I do. That’s why Hart started bringing him by the club. The kid just figured out his powers, so Hart suggested that he go to Len. He helps train all kinds of young metas. Mostly to recruit into the Rogues, but he helped Wally out as a favor to Hart.” 

 

Her mind was racing with the possibilities, thinking through what it could all mean for the case, so she didn’t notice Mick approach her until the bed beside her dipped. When she turned, he was sitting beside her with a small smile. “You and the kid are both good people. Better than me or Snart. You should get out of this shit while you both still can. This world will drag you down until the next thing you know, you’re looking back at all the decisions you made, wondering how you ended up staring down the end of a gun. And, the worst thing is, you may be the one pointing it.”

 

He raised a hand slowly, unsurely, towards Kara. When she didn’t flinch away, he brushed a piece of blonde hair behind her ear and leaned forward. Kara stopped breathing for a second, but the kiss on her lips she’d expected never came. Instead, Mick pressed his lips to her forehead and rose off the bed. Wordlessly, he strode out of the room, leaving Kara confused and with a list of questions. 

 

* * *

 

 

The night passed slowly. Barry and Kara shared the bedroom, while Mick slept in his chair in the living area with Ralph on the couch. Len stayed in the study off the living area. He didn’t get a wink of sleep the entire night, his mind spinning with hundreds of possibilities and plans for the future. 

 

For a moment, he considered coming clean about everything. He unlocked the drawer of his desk and laid out all of his secret files--ones even Lisa and Mick didn’t know about. The only one with even a suspicion was Ralph, but there was no proof. Even a year ago, the dick had no proof that he was involved in anything. 

 

A year ago, though, he hadn’t been locked up by Amunet and her ilk. Ralph’s whole situation was suspicious--from the ease at which they escaped with him to the way Amunet corralled him and Barry to the right door. He wasn’t telling them everything. What was his connection to the whole affair? What information had he been privy to? 

 

He put on a record and hummed to himself as he let his mind sort through the facts. 

 

He didn’t even notice someone was watching him until there was a knock on the door. Barry smiled softly when Len turned back to face him. 

 

“I thought you’d still be up.” 

 

Len glanced over at the clock on his desk--4:30 in the morning. He shrugged. “Got a lot on my mind.” 

 

Barry nodded, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His eyes darted to the phonograph, and he raised an eyebrow. “Benny Goodman? Didn’t take you for a fan.”

 

Len’s heart jumped. Barry was teasing him. Joking, like the old days. He strode over to the machine. “Maybe I have something else you’ll appreciate…” He removed the disc and replaced it with a worn, familiar one. When he dropped the needle, a slow melody flooded the room. 

 

Barry breathed out a laugh as  _ La Vie En Rose  _ started to play. 

 

Len smiled to himself. “Do you remember this song?” he asked, drifting closer to where Barry was swaying with the music. “We would dance to it in my ratty apartment, with our cheap wine, pretending we were far away from Central City.” He took Barry by the hips and pulled him close. 

 

Barry didn’t try to pull away. He didn’t even roll his eyes. Instead, he leaned in closer, resting his hands on Len’s shoulders. 

 

“Pretending like we could run away from who we are...from what we’ve done…” He didn’t mean to say it. Sometimes, when he was around Barry, the truth just slipped out. 

 

Barry didn’t comment on it, though. His eyes got a shine in them like Barry saw something familiar and hopeful. His breath caught in his throat, and Barry leaned forward to press their foreheads together. 

 

“Do you remember when you came by my apartment three years ago?” he whispered, his eyes falling shut. 

 

Len hummed. How could he forget?

 

“You showed up, banging on my door in the pouring rain at two in the morning,” Barry continued. “You’d been crying— I could always tell, hard as you tried to hide it. You said that you couldn’t do it anymore, that none of it meant anything without me. Then, you held up two tickets to Paris and begged me to run away with you, to get away from it all.”

 

“Pretty sure you told me to fuck off,” Len chuckled. At the time, it’d been earth-shattering. Now, he could see that he had deserved it

 

Barry let out a shaky breath. “Why didn’t I go with you, Len? I wanted to...there’s nothing in the world I wanted more. I loved you...I  _ still _ love you. God, I never stopped.” 

 

Without warning, Barry surged forward and pressed their lips together. Len heard a whimper—he was pretty sure it came from himself—and kissed back frantically. He backed Barry into the wall, accidentally knocking over a side table with his foot as he passed. 

 

Barry moaned as he leveraged himself against Len’s body, arching and writhing while his hands grabbed at Len’s shirt. God, Len wanted this. They both wanted it.

  
Maybe he was going to regret it later—Barry  _ definitely  _ would once he knew the truth—but it wasn’t important then. All he could think about was the way they tumbled to the floor together, yanking off garments here and there until they both were bare and wanting.


	7. At the bottom of everything

“So...that happened.”

 

Barry glanced over at Len, lying beside him on the floor with only the rug they were using as a blanket to cover him. When their eyes met, both erupted into giggles. When they finally calmed, Barry rolled onto his stomach and looked--really  _ looked _ \--at Len. There was a weariness to him he hadn’t noticed before, a sad gleam in his eye, and suddenly, Barry wondered why he’d been so desperate to get away three years ago. 

 

“This wasn’t a mistake, was it?” he asked, tilting his head with frown. He wasn’t sure if it was or wasn’t himself. Was this whole episode just a combination of nostalgia and unburnt adrenaline? 

 

Len furrowed his brow. “Maybe... I don’t know yet. Do  _ you  _ think it was a mistake?”

 

“I don’t want it to be,” Barry answered honestly. “I kind of want to wake up like this every morning for the rest of my life.”

 

“On the floor of my safehouse under a rug?”

 

“ _ No.”  _ Barry swatted good-naturedly at Len, who chuckled. “I mean...with you. I’m tired of feeling alone, Len. I’m tired of desperately clinging to one or two people because I’ve pushed away everyone else I’ve ever loved. I don’t care if it’s here, or Starling City, or Paris, or Antarctica. I want to be with you, no conditions.”

 

A small smile pulled at the corners of Len’s lips, and they both leaned in together for a soft, toe-curling kiss. “I love you, Barry,” Len whispered against his lips.

 

His heart did a backflip. “I love you, too.” He moved in to kiss him again, but Len pulled away. That’s when Barry noticed the indecision in his eyes, and he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

 

Len let out a heavy sigh. “Barry...would you still love me, even if I did something terrible?”

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “Len, you’re a mob boss. I’m sure you do all kinds of terrible things, and I love you anyway.”

 

But Len shook his head. “No, Barry. I mean something really terrible. Like, the worst-thing-you-could-ever-think-of terrible?”

 

“Len, you’re scaring me a little,” Barry said. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

 

Len closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s a long story, Barry, and I haven’t told anyone else about it--not even Lisa and Mick. But I need you to know that everything I did was to protect  _ you _ .”

 

“Len, just tell me--what did you do?”

 

Len opened his mouth to answer, but a knock came on the door of the study. 

 

“Snart!” Mick called through the door. “Skirt and I are heading out for breakfast. You or the kid want anything?”

 

Barry blushed. He hadn’t even considered the walk of shame that would happen from the study. God, with his healing gone, he was almost positive there were hickies littering his neck and all kinds of other places. 

 

“I’m good, Mick!” Len shouted back. He looked at Barry, who shook his head. “Both of us are!”

 

There was a grunt, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. The moment in the room was gone, though. Barry knew that he needed to check on Ralph. It was the light of day now, meaning it was time to transition from friend to detective. Ralph was their only witness, and the only person who knew where Wally might be. 

 

He pushed himself to his feet and went in search of his boxers and shirt. He could feel eyes on him as he dressed, and he forced down a blush. 

 

“So, Poirot, what’s on the agenda for today?” Len asked, still laid out under the rug.

 

“Questioning Ralph.” If he’d turned around, he might have noticed Len tensing, his eyes widening. “Wally wasn’t at the meta fight, meaning that, if Amunet has him, she’s holding him somewhere else. Or maybe she kidnapped him for Devoe. Either way, Ralph might know more than he either knows or is saying.”

 

Len cleared his throat. “Why would Ralph not say something that could help you find your brother?”

 

Barry shrugged. “He was locked up for over a year. Who knows what that can do to someone’s psyche? Maybe he’s been hypnotized or brainwashed…”

 

“That’s not what you were saying after we brought him here last night.”

 

Barry paused. He was right. Barry wasn’t near as suspicious or hesitant about things after they came to the safe house. Normally, he would’ve questioned Ralph, would’ve had a million theories...wouldn’t have slept with Len in such an impulsive way, For some reason though, he’d been practically euphoric all night. He pinned that thought for later. 

 

“That was last night. This is now.” Without another word, he ran out in his boxers and unbuttoned shirt...only to find an empty apartment. He strode from room to room, but Ralph was nowhere to be found. He cursed but tried hard not to jump to conclusions. Maybe Ralph went to the office…

 

_ Without telling anyone? _

 

Ralph was known to get a wild hair up his ass and do some reckless things. Running around with a bunch of crazy mobster metas looking for him wouldn’t be the craziest thing he’d ever done. 

 

The door to the study opened as Barry walked back into the living area, pulling on his pants from the day before and tucking in Len’s shirt. Len was fully, immaculately dressed once again. 

 

He frowned. “Where the hell is Stretchy?”   
  


Barry threw up a shrug. “Hell if I know. Guess that means that I have to wait for questions until later.”

 

“You don’t think he ran back to Amunet to tell her where we are?”

 

There was genuine concern in Len’s voice, which set off alarms in Barry’s head. “No...unless there’s a reason you think Ralph would betray us all like that? Is there something you’re keeping from me?”

 

Len looked like he wanted to answer, but something was holding him back. Barry rolled his eyes and headed for the coat rack. 

 

“Now where are you going?” Len asked as he yanked his jacket off the hook.

 

“Since I don’t know where Ralph is, I’m going to have a word with one of my informants. They’re the ones who pointed me in the direction of the meta fight. Maybe they have more information.”

 

He really didn’t  _ want _ to see Eobard, but it seemed like he was the only one being straightforward with him anymore. Which was kind of sad, if he was being honest with himself. 

 

Len nodded, grabbing his hat off the rack. “Okay, let’s go.”

 

“Not you.” Barry frowned. “Just me. You’ll scare him off.”

 

That was a lie, of course. It took a lot to scare Thawne, but he didn’t want Len knowing about their good mayor. He could see, though, that Len wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. 

 

He sighed. “Fine, but you can’t tell  _ anyone  _ about what you hear or who it is.” 

 

Len gave a wink. “Scout’s honor.” 

 

As they headed out and Barry led Len towards Town Hall, he thought about the night before. He didn’t regret sleeping with Len— he’d never regret that, after wanting it again for so long— but he was worried. Worried about what had brought on that impulse in him, and worried about what it could mean for them. Which was weird because, before last night, there  _ was  _ no ‘them’. It was like every stride Barry made to separate himself from his young, naive self from five years ago had been thrown away in just one night. 

 

“You okay, Scarlet?”

 

Barry resisted the urge to flinch. “Yeah. Fine.” 

 

They continued until they came to the alleyway by city hall. Len moved like he was going to continue, but Barry took him by the arm and dragged him down the alley.

 

“Where are we…?”

 

Barry shushed him and kept pulling him through until they came to a steel door. Almost mechanically, Barry reached up to pull a brick above the door out, catching a key as it fell. Len frowned. 

 

“You’ve done this a lot.”

 

“More than I’d like to admit,” Barry replied, unlocking the door and returning the key to its hiding place. “My informant likes our meetings to be kept private, so I come in this door, sometimes after hours, to avoid being seen.” 

 

He opened the door for Len, who just stared back with narrowed eyes. “So, you and this source of yours…?”

 

Disgust twisted in Barry’s stomach. He gagged. “Ew,  _ no _ . Me and…?  _ No. _ ”

 

That seemed to calm Len. They stepped inside without another word, following the back stairs and secret halls until they came to the secret passage at the back of the mayor’s office. Only a handful of people knew about it, so Thawne used it for illegal meetings and sordid company. 

 

“So, your informant is someone in the mayor’s office?” Len asked. Barry shrugged. 

“Not exactly.” Usually, he knocked twice to announce his presence, but he really wanted the whole encounter over and done. So, he pushed the door open without warning and froze when he saw who Thawne was entertaining. 

 

“Hello, Mr. Allen.” Amunet smirked, drinking smugly from her glass of scotch. Len drew his gun faster than Barry could think.

 

“Barry,” Thawne greeted, sitting behind his desk, his feet on the table, “I see you brought your bodyguard.” He disappeared for only a split second, one that only Barry saw, and returned to his seat with Len’s gun in his hand. “Down, boy.”

 

Len’s eyes widened, but Barry just shook his head. “You’ve kept that a secret for years, but you decide to reveal it now for dramatic effect of all things?”

 

Eobard shrugged. “Only the people in this room saw. Amunet won’t tell--I have her over a barrel--and your ex-boy toy knows better than to go running his mouth. I can make it very hard for him to operate in this city.”

 

Len’s mouth snapped shut, fury filling his eyes at the threat, but Barry grabbed his arm to stop him from doing anything stupid. “I guess I know who your source was in the fights now.”

 

Amunet shrugged. “I had no idea our good mayor was a meta himself until today, but I did know he was a spectator. I came here after our dear friends, the Devoes, cut me loose this morning. By which I mean they tried to murder me with a car bomb. Nasty business, but I was hoping to call upon friends in high place to assist me.”

 

Barry wished he could say that he didn’t believe it, but Eobard has his hands in all kinds of things Barry didn’t want to know about. 

 

“Wally wasn’t at the fights,” he said instead. “Which I’m sure Amunet here knows. So, where is he?”

 

Amunet looked between the three men, who were all watching with different levels of interest. “Well,  _ I _ certainly don’t know anything about a ‘Wally’.”

 

“A speedster, Amunet,” Eobard elaborated. “I know you’ve been searching for one.”

 

“Yes, a  _ specific  _ one,” Amunet clarified. “The Devoes asked for a very powerful speedster who has direct access to the Speed Force. They wouldn’t just channel it--they are a conduit for it.”

 

Barry furrowed his brow. “Why would they want someone like that?”

 

Amunet shrugged. “They’re very hush hush. All I know is that Clifford Devoe is very particular about the metas he keeps for himself. One could control gravity, one controlled luck, one had tears that produced desire and feelings of euphoria, one controlled inanimate objects...then, there was your little partner.”

 

“Ralph?” Barry asked. “He said he was taken for asking too many questions.”

 

“Perhaps that’s why he was caught, but Devoe was after him for quit a long time. He was bound and determined to find someone stretchy.”

 

That gave him more questions than answers. If he was one of Devoe’s special metas instead of just in the wrong place at the wrong time, why was he the only one still alive? Why hadn’t Devoe gotten to him yet?

 

“So, you didn’t take Wally?”

 

Amunet shook her head. “Ask your little friend. I haven’t touched a speedster.”

 

Damn, he was back to square one, only now he had a crazy meta kidnapper on his tail, looking for his once dead partner. When did life get so complicated?

 

“I think it’s time we leave,” Len said, pulling towards the door. Suddenly, time slowed. Amunet and Len started moving in slow motion, but Eobard and Barry remained the same. Speed Time. Even without his powers, Barry’s mind moved fast enough to keep up with speedsters. 

 

“Be careful around Snart, Barry,” Eobard warned. “You think that  _ I’m  _ untrustworthy--he’s been lying to you since the beginning.”

 

Then, time resumed. Len pulled Barry out the door, Amunet gave them a tiny wave, and Eobard fixed Barry with a serious look that put Barry on edge more than he ever thought possible. Eobard was a lot of things, but he never lied to Barry, and he would rarely stick his neck out for him. The fact that he made a point to warn Barry meant something, meant that he needed to take it seriously. 

 

He was wary of Len the whole walk back to the safehouse. When they walked back in, Barry noticed that Kara and Mick were still gone, but the jacket that Ralph had ‘borrowed’ was back on the coat rack, and someone was clanging around in the kitchen. Barry made a beeline for it, while Len took off his coat.

 

“Where have you been?” Barry demanded. Ralph was making tea in an old mug, wearing one of his old suits. 

 

“I went back to the offices. Got me a change of clothes--I can’t believe you kept all my stuff. Then, I thought I’d look through my old case files, but most of them were missing.”

 

“Yeah, Devoe’s people busted in and stole them around the time you disappeared,” Barry explained. “That was risky, Ralph. You should’ve asked me or Kara to go with you.”

 

“Well, you seemed a little preoccupied this morning, if you get my drift.” He motioned his head towards the living area, where Len was waiting for them. “And I didn’t want either of you getting caught in the crosshairs of all this. You two are the only family I have, and I’ll protect you even if it kills me.”

 

Instead of drinking the tea, like Barry expected, Ralph handed it to him and started making another mug of it for himself. Barry took a sip, and all his anger at Ralph melted away.    
  


He sighed. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Len and I went to see one of my informants today, to see what they’ve heard about Wally. Did you hear anything while you were being held?”

 

Ralph shook his head. “About your foster brother? Why would I? Is he a meta now?”

 

“A speedster.”

 

“Well, I know that Devoe was searching for a speedster, but a special one. Part of his meta ability was brilliance--he knew things that he had no reason to know. I overheard him talking to his wife one day about a speedster with a connection to the Speed Force unlike any other. Called them the ‘key to infinite knowledge’. I don’t know…”

 

Barry frowned. The key to infinite knowledge… Amunet said that the speedster they looked for had a direct connection to the Speed Force. Was that why Wally was taken? Could he be more than just a guardian of the Speed Force, like Barry and Thawne were? 

 

Barry needed to talk to the Speed Force. He needed to ask who the speedster was. As far as he knew, there was only one person who could get him there. 

 

Len chose that moment to walk in the kitchen, and Barry, ecstatic and brimming with plans and ideas, ran to him and kissed him deeply. “I know how to find Wally!” he shouted. He ran for the door, not even bothering with his coat. He heard two sets of footfalls behind him, Ralph and Len both probably tripping over their feet to catch up with him. 

 

It didn’t matter, though. Barry knew how to solve the mystery. 


	8. When your head says one thing and your whole life says another, your head always loses

Barry ran fast down the street towards the tailor shop, questions buzzing in his head. Who was this mysterious speedster? Did the Speed Force know who took Wally? Was he the one everyone was after? 

 

He was so concerned with the questions, he didn’t even notice something was wrong until a stretched arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back. Len and Ralph were ducked in the doorway of a closed down store a few windows down from the tailor shop. Len had his gun out, and Ralph was reeling Barry back to them. 

 

That’s when Barry saw all the broken glass on the sidewalk. There was a loud grunt from inside the shop, followed by a large man and the bug-eyed man from Amunet’s fight climbing out the broken shop window. An unconscious Cisco was thrown over the larger man’s shoulder. 

 

Barry moved to stop them, but Ralph’s grip on him tightened. “There’s nothing we can do right now, Rookie,” he whispered. “We’ll get him back, I promise.” 

 

Barry wasn’t so sure. The sunshine he’d been feeling was slowly dimming. Without Cisco, there was no way to go in the Speed Force without another speedster’s help. Unless…

 

He sighed.

 

“We have to go back to my office,” he said. “Then, I need to make a call to the police station.”

 

* * *

 

 

Barry was able to phone the safe house on the way to the office, so Kara and Mick were waiting for them when they arrived. Without saying a word to either of them, Barry went straight for the phone, dialing a number he knew by heart and holding his breath as the call went through. 

 

_ “Hello?” _

 

Barry swallowed hard. “Hey, Joe...it’s me.”

 

He heard a sharp inhale on the other end of the line, followed by a shaky exhale.  _ “Bare? How...how are you, son? Is everything okay? Are  _ you  _ okay?” _

 

“No…” he replied honestly. “No, it’s not. I’m not. I...I need your help, Joe. And you’re not gonna like it, but it’s important. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t.”

 

_ “I know that. Anything you need, I’m here for you.” _

 

Here went nothing. “Do you remember the bust with Zolomon? Right before he...disappeared?”

 

_ “...yeah.” _

 

“Please tell me that there’s still some Velocity Nine in evidence.” 

 

The other line went quiet for a second.  _ “Bare, no. There has to be another way for you to get what you need. That stuff turned Zolomon into a monster.” _

 

“He wasn’t meant to have that speed, Joe. And maybe I’m not either, but I need to contact the Speed Force, and I can’t do that anymore without the formula.”

 

_ “Barry, there has to be another…” _

 

“There isn’t. Just...please, Joe.” He didn’t mean to sound as desperate as he felt, but enough bled through that he knew he’d gotten through to his foster father.

 

Joe sighed.  _ “Yeah, okay, son. I’ll bring it. But you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on when I get there.” _

 

“Okay.” Barry spit off the address and hung up, before turning to face the others. Mick and Ralph both seemed confused, Len was staring wide-eyed at him, and Kara...well, she was practically fuming. 

 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to do something so  _ stupid _ !” she yelled. “Bartholomew Henry Allen, you know what Velocity Nine did to Hunter Zolomon. It may not have been what turned him into a psycho, but it made him into that monster you had to put down.”

 

Barry shook his head. “Kara, you don’t understa--” 

 

“Don’t you dare say that I don’t understand, Barry! You didn’t see what I saw that day!” 

 

The room went silent. Their audience seemed torn between shifting uncomfortably and leaning in with anticipation. Barry frowned at his partner. She swore to never tell what happened, what she’d seen. It was taboo in their office, an elephant in the room of their partnership. 

 

“What did you see, Kara?” he whispered. “What could’ve scared you  _ that  _ bad? What happened to Zolomon?”

 

Kara’s eyes fell shut. He could see her reliving all over again in her head, over and over. “You happened, Barry.” Her voice was cold, emotionless, like she would break at the seams if she let herself feel. “You killed Zolomon...I think. I don’t really know what I saw. One second, you were stepping in front of me, ready to take the blast from Zolomon’s gun, the next...you weren’t you anymore. It was like something inside of you shifted. Your eyes turned yellow with lightning and, suddenly, you were right in front of Zolomon. You grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground, and all I could see was him choking for air. His face sunk in like a skeleton, and his skin turned gray. Then, this...thing opened beside you, and these ghost like things just took Zolomon from your hands and carried him back with them. You passed out in my arms right after, and you didn’t remember a thing. But I still have nightmares about that. I just think about those things coming for you all the time.”

 

Her voice finally broke. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and Barry rushed forward to pull her into his arms.

 

“I’m sorry, Kara,” he said, hugging his partner tight. “But I have to do this. I need to find Wally, and the Speed Force is the only way.”

 

“It isn’t.” She pulled away, her eyes steely as she rounded on the others. She nodded at Len. “He knows where Wally is. He’s been lying to us the entire time.”

 

Len’s eyes narrowed, confusion written on his face, but Barry could tell it wasn’t quite genuine. 

 

“What are you talking about?” he asked Kara. 

 

“Mick told me that he’s known that Wally was a speedster ever since he came to the Rogue with Hartley Rathaway. That’s why he was there--to help him figure out his powers.”

 

Len looked between Kara and Barry with a sigh. “Okay, fine. That’s true, I knew. Why does that mean I did something to the kid? I like Wallace...what motive would I have?”

 

“Maybe you trafficked him,” Ralph spoke up, stepping away from him and over to where Kara and Barry were standing, “the same way you’ve been trafficking in metahumans for years, Cold.”

 

Barry’s blood froze in his veins. “What? What are you talking about?”

 

“I wasn’t just investigating Devoe before I was taken, Barry. I was also investigating Snart. I got an anonymous tip about an illegal metahuman smuggling ring and fight arena, and they said that Snart was the footsoldier of it.”

 

Even Mick looked surprised, but Len just glared at Ralph. “Watch it, Stretchy Boy.”

 

“Or what?” Ralph asked. “You’ll send Amunet after me, just like you did when I came around, asking questions. Then, you gave ‘em your boys who saw me at the club, trashed my office looking for my notes on the investigation, and shot Hannibal Bates in the back, before dumping him in the river. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

Len didn’t have to say a word. The truth was written all over his face. Barry stumbled back, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. 

 

“Oh my god...that’s what you were going to tell me this morning...the terrible thing you did. You were going to kill Ralph.”

 

Len rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like you’re some innocent, Barry. You know what kind of man I am. You’ve known for years now. Yeah, I did all of that. I’ve been keeping my metas safe by turning in other metas to Amunet and her trafficking ring. I didn’t try to kill Ralph, though. I knew who I was following. It needed to be convincing, though.”

 

He said it like it made everything okay. Like that was the most understandable course of actions someone would take. “Why? Why did you do all that? Why didn’t you just help bring the trafficking ring down?”

 

Len scoffed. “You think that’s what Dibny was after? You’ve known this man for years, Barry--have you ever known him to stick his neck out when he didn’t have something on the line to lose? No, just like me, Ralph was protecting something-- _ you _ .”

 

Barry frowned. “Me?”

 

“Amunet’s been harassing me for a speedster for a while. She heard a rumor I knew one. I constantly told her that speedsters were a myth, but she said that a buyer of hers was positive there was a speedster out there who was a direct connection to the Speed Force. Apparently, he called it the ‘Source of All Knowledge’. I knew what it was, though. I never gave you up, Scarlet. 

 

“Then, Ralph came in, and I knew that my luck had run out. Devoe, Amunet’s buyer, found out about you. He was planning to use your partners to get to you. I told Dibny as much, warned him to get you out of the city.” 

 

“But I knew the truth about his loyalties,” Ralph snarled. “He couldn’t be trusted. And he proved it by trying to shoot me in the back!” 

 

“That’s a lie!” Len yelled back. “I don’t accidentally kill people. I knew what I was doing, and it was to keep Barry safe!” 

 

It was all becoming too much for him. A knock on the office door silenced the indecision inside of him for a moment, and he walked over to answer it. There was a familiar silhouette in the window—Joe— and he blew out a breath.

 

“Hey, Joe,” he greeted, swinging open the door, only to be met with a gun to his face.

 

“Hello, Mr. Allen.” There was a woman standing behind Joe, a knife held to the detective’s throat as she pointed his side arm over his shoulder at Barry. He’d never seen the woman before, but he knew exactly who he was looking at. 

 

“Marlize Devoe.” The woman smiled as she led Joe inside, forcing Barry to back away with his hands held high. The others jumped when they noticed the gun, Len’s hand going for his holster. 

 

There was a click from another revolver, only this time, it was behind Barry. Kara gasped to his right. 

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Snart,” Ralph said. Barry glanced over his shoulder to see his partner pointing gun at the mobster. There was a cold, unfamiliar smile on his face that sent a shiver down Barry’s spine. “Put your weapon on the floor and kick it over here. You too, Mr. Rory.”

 

Mick scowled, but looked to Len, who gave a quick nod. Both reached into their holsters and slowly drew their weapons, laid them at their feet, and kicked them across the room. 

 

Ralph stepped up behind Barry and pressed the revolver to his temple. “Bend down,  _ slowly _ , and pick up the guns with two fingers.”

 

“Ralph, what…?” 

 

The gun pressed harder against his skin. “Do what I said.” 

 

“Barry,” Joe whispered, standing stock still and wide-eyed across from him, “do what he says.”

 

Barry swallowed hard, but slowly crouched to the floor, Ralph following, and took the handle of the guns with his index fingers and thumbs. When he stood back up, Marlize pushed Joe towards Len and Mick, pocketed the knife, and moved to take the guns from Barry’s hands. 

 

“You’re late,” Ralph said. Marlize gave him a loving smile. 

 

“Apologies, my love. I had to intercept Detective West for the formula. He was harder to subdue than I anticipated.” 

Barry’s heart fell to his stomach. “You’re Clifford Devoe. You’ve been him the whole time.”

 

Devoe chuckled behind him. “Don’t feel bad, Mr. Allen. I’m sure you would’ve figured it out much sooner, had I not taken appropriate measures.”

 

Barry frowned. Appropriate measures? What…?

 

Len inhaled sharply. “The Weeper.”

 

“The what?” Kara asked. 

 

“There’s a meta that Amunet had me find,” Len explained, “went by the Weeper. His tears were like a drug. They gave people who came in contact with them a feeling of euphoria.  ”

 

“Like, when you drank them in the booze I poured for you,” Ralph practically whispered in his ear, “or in the tea I fixed for you.”

 

That’s why he was so eager to be with Len. Why he never questioned Ralph until the morning after. His stomach churned.

 

“You’ve been drugging me…”

 

“It’s not personal, Mr. Allen. But you’re instrumental to my plans, and I couldn’t have you figuring out my identity too soon. But, I’m afraid the time has come for us to make our exit.” 

 

He moved his gun away from Barry’s head and fired. Mick fell to the ground, blood pouring from his stomach. 

 

“Son of a bitch, not again!” he growled. Kara ran over to his side. 

 

“Don’t worry,” Devoe assured. “If you get him to the hospital within the next twenty minutes, he’ll live. Unfortunately, Ms. Danvers, you must choose between saving Mr. Rory or following us.”

 

Len moved to check on his friend, but Marlize turned Joe’s gun to him. 

 

“Not you, Mr. Snart.” Devoe smirked. “I’m afraid that you and Detective West are coming with us. I must warn you--if either of you try anything, I will shoot the other and force Mr. Allen to watch them die.”

 

“No…” Barry gasped, pulling against Devoe’s grip, but he used Ralph’s powers to stretch his arm around his waist twice, keeping him close enough that he couldn’t get away. Marlize pointed Joe’s gun and Len’s gun at their owners.

  
“So,” she announced, “shall we get moving?” 


	9. A cold, rigid frame around every kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things:
> 
> 1) The date rape tag was for Barry having sex with Len while drugged by Devoe. Devoe will NOT rape Barry. 
> 
> 2) The song in this chapter is Someone to Watch Over Me, by Helen Forrest. Go give it a listen--it was in Agent Carter.

They were loaded into a car parked at the curb. Devoe climbed in first with his arm wrapped tightly around Barry’s waist, then Len, then Joe. Marlize climbed in the front, her gun still on them, while Amunet’s bug-eyed meta sat in the driver’s seat. 

 

“Take us back to the hotel,” she ordered. The man nodded, taking off wordlessly. 

 

Barry clenched his jaw. He’d never been so terrified in his life. Two of the men he loved the most were in danger and being used against him. He hated Devoe for seeing right through him. Which reminded him…

 

“How’d you know I was going to call Joe?” he asked, looking straight ahead. He couldn’t bear to look at anyone else.

 

“I know many things,” Devoe replied. “I knew that Mr. Snart would do everything in his power to both protect you from me and to keep you from knowing the truth. I knew he would never give Amunet Wallace…”

 

Barry perked at that. He whipped around to Len. “You didn’t give Wally up?”

 

“Of course not.” Len sighed. “I gave Hartley a stack of cash with the instructions to take Wallace away somewhere under a different name and not to tell anyone. With any luck, they’re on a beach somewhere far away.”

 

“Aruba, actually,” Devoe chuckled. “But I was never after the young Mr. West. A speedster though he may be, he’s a mere guardian of the Speed Force, much like your politician friend.”

 

He gave Barry a secret smile. “Yes, I know all about him and I couldn’t care less. The only speedster I sought was one whose mind can travel between here and the Speed Force. One with a direct connection to it--its chosen vessel,  _ Savitar _ .” 

 

Barry frowned, but he could see Joe tense. “What? What does that mean?”

 

“Yes, Detective West.” Devoe grinned. “Please, tell Mr. Allen what it means.” 

 

Len and Barry both looked to Joe, who glaring towards Devoe. “Do you remember when you first started living with me, Bare? You used to sleepwalk and have nightmares?”

 

Barry nodded. He constantly had dreams about his parents’ car accident. He’d been sitting in the backseat of the car. It was late, and the radio was playing something soft and slow. His parents were sitting in the front seat, his mother constantly looking back at him with that beautiful smile of hers. 

 

Then, there was an electrical storm. It came out of nowhere, lightning striking the ground all around their car. He remembered his mother’s screams, his father’s shouts to ‘hold on’, and the next thing Barry knew, he was standing in the middle of the road. The lightning storm was gone. His parents’ car was wrapped around a tree. And Barry Allen was an orphan. 

 

“Sometimes,” Joe explained, “your eyes would glow blue when you were sleepwalking, and when you had nightmares...it would be like an electrical storm in your room. I had to hold you to calm you down before Iris woke up. Then, one day, you were standing in the middle of the living room with a vortex of lightning around you. You didn’t respond to me, you just kept saying ‘Savitar’ over and over again, until it all just...stopped, and you fell to the floor. I’ve never been more afraid than in that moment, Bare.”

 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Beside him, Devoe chuckled. “For the past year, you’ve feared your powers, not knowing what it truly meant--you  _ are  _ the Speed Force, Barry Allen. Savitar himself.”

 

“What do you want with me?”

 

“I want your knowledge. I want all of the knowledge the Speed Force has to offer. And you are the gateway to getting it.” 

 

“I swear to God, Devoe,” Len said through clenched teeth, “if you hurt him…”

 

“Like you two did?” he asked. “That’s what makes this so perfect, why the two of you must bear witness to my ascension. Without you, Barry Allen would never have fallen so easily into my grasp, have been so easy to manipulate. In many ways, you and the detective are my greatest disciples, Mr. Snart.” 

 

Barry could tell that Len wanted to punch Devoe, but his wife still had her gun on him and Joe. If Len pulled something, Barry knew she wouldn’t hesitate to kill Joe right then and there. He grabbed his ex’s hand and squeezed. 

 

“It’s okay, Len,” he assured. “I promise it’ll be okay.”

 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mr. Allen.” Devoe chuckled as the car slowed to a stop. Once the driver put it in park, Marlize gave Devoe a nod. Without hesitation, he drew a gun and fired it into the back of the man’s head, blood spraying over him, Barry, and the windshield. 

 

Barry let out a scream. He tried to move away from Devoe, but he dragged him back against his side. He waved his hand, and the space in front of the car shattered like pieces of a mirror. Marlize pushed the dead meta out of the car and moved into his place, throwing it back into drive. 

“Where are you taking us?” Joe demanded as Marlize drove the car through the portal.

 

Devoe smirked. “Home.”

 

* * *

 

Kara carried Mick down the streets, blood bleeding through to her dress. Mick made a sharp inhale of pain every few steps, but other than that, made no complaints. 

 

“Damn, what I wouldn’t give for Barry’s speed right now,” she hissed. She looked to Mick, whose eyes were fluttering shut. “No, no, no...stay with me, Mick! I’m gonna get you to the hospital. We’re only…” she looked around for her bearings, “twelve blocks away.”

 

He was going to die. Mick was going to die in her arms and there was nothing she could do about it. If only she could…

 

The light pole beside her started to sink into the ground. So did the buildings, and the mailboxes.

 

She heard gasps down...below her?

 

With one glance, she suddenly knew why. Things weren’t sinking into the ground--she was rising into the sky!

 

Kara grinned wildly as she rose higher and higher into the air, tightening her grip on Mick. His eyes peeked open for a second, and a small, dopey smile appeared on his face. 

 

“Angel…”

 

Kara blushed. “Hold on, Mick. I’m getting you to the hospital.” With a hell of a lot of hope, she took off through the sky, praying she wouldn’t be too late. 

 

* * *

 

 

The straps around Barry’s wrists tightened. He was laid out on an operation table, his hands and feet tied down with leather straps, while Len and Joe were sitting in chairs directly across from him, held down by some unseen force from their captor. They were in a lab--white, concrete, with large power-lines draped across the ceiling. Barry didn’t want to know what those were for.

 

Devoe took the chair beside the table, a strange helmet with a tube sticking out of the top buckled on his stolen head. On the other side of him was Cisco, unconscious and strapped to a table like him. 

 

“What’s going on, Devoe?” he asked. “Why do you need Cisco?”

“Other than speedsters, Mr. Ramon is the only one who can access the Speed Force,” Devoe answered with a careless wave. “He will be fine. Or he won’t--it doesn’t matter to me.” 

 

Marlize moved above Barry now, hooking a helmet like Devoe’s to his head. Then, she moved to Cisco. Instead of putting a helmet on his head, she placed two sticky pads attached to wires on his temples. 

 

“Are you prepared, my love?” she asked, stroking Ralph’s face dotefully. 

 

Devoe nodded. “Soon, I will be ascended, and we will fix the world.”

 

Marlize moved to a switch on the wall, and Len and Joe started struggling. “I will kill you,” Len swore. “I will fucking kill you for this, Devoe!”

 

“I’m sure you will try, Mr. Snart.” Devoe didn’t even sound worried. That was the frustrating part. 

 

Marlize grabbed the switch. 

 

“Len,” Barry said, drawing the mobster’s attention. “Len, look at me. I love you.” He felt the tears dripping down his cheeks, but he needed to say it. He needed to make sure it was known. “I  _ love you _ . And Joe...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have cut you out. I’m sorry. Please...none of this is either of your faults, okay? I love you both so much.”

 

“How heartwarming,” Devoe said in his cold, emotionless voice. “If you are all done with your goodbyes…”

 

Marlize threw the switch. Power surged through Barry’s body, making him arch off the table. It was like lightning was shooting through his veins, burning him from the inside out. He heard Len screaming for Devoe to stop, he heard Joe crying, he heard Cisco’s moans of pain, and then, everything went silent. 

 

When he opened his eyes, he was in The Rogue. Kara was standing on the stage, dressed in a dark, green dress, singing a haunting tune to an empty club. Well, almost empty. 

 

Mick was in the front row, the front of his white shirt drenched in blood, but he was watching Kara lovingly. 

 

Joe was in one of the booths with Iris and Wally, dressed like one of the many mobsters Barry had seen in and out of the club when the Santini’s ran things. The sound of a Tommy gun drew his attention, but when he turned, there was nothing. None of the rest of the patrons even noticed. 

 

When he turned back around, Len was standing in front of him. Barry’s breath caught in his throat. He was dressed in his dingy white button up, his fraying blue suspenders, his brown shoes that were a few steps away from losing their soles. 

 

But there was that joy in his eyes from so long ago, the smile. Len took him by hand and pulled him out on the empty dance floor. 

 

The music played by an invisible band changed, and Kara started a different song. 

 

_ “ _ _ There's a somebody I'm longing to see _

_ I hope that he turns out to be _

_ Someone who'll watch over me…” _

 

Len pulled him close and started to sway.

 

“Len,” he whispered, “what’s going on? Where’s Devoe? What happened?”

 

Len didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward to press their foreheads together and continued moving to the melody of Kara’s song. 

 

_ “I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood _

_ I know I could always be good _

_ Someone who'll watch over me…” _

 

Barry wanted to let himself get lost in Len’s hold. It was what he wanted more than anything, but everything seemed wrong. A blinding light flashed beside him. He jumped, but there were no cameras, no lights, nothing. 

 

“Len, something’s wrong.” 

 

“You can’t save them.” He turned back to Len, whose face was blank now. Mick, Joe, Iris, and Wally were all staring at him, but Kara’s song continued on. 

 

_ “Although he may not be the man some _

_ Girls think of as handsome _

_ To my heart he carries the key _

_ Won't you tell him please to put on some speed _

_ Follow my lead, oh, how I need _

_ Someone to watch over me.” _

 

“What?”

 

Len shook his head. “You can’t save your friends, Barry. The second you leave the club, we can’t protect you anymore. Not from Clifford Devoe, and not from yourself. You must embrace who you are, or you must stay here. If not, you’ll perish out there.”

 

He heard a scream. This time, he knew it was real. It was Len’s, plain as day. He sounded pained. 

 

“Will they die if I don’t?”

 

Fake Len tilted his head. “We don’t know. But we do know that, if you walk outside that door, you will die. You will die. That’s your destiny.”

 

“But I can stop Devoe? I can save Ralph?”

 

Fake Len nodded. “Ralph Dibny is still alive. While Devoe is loose in here, trying to find you, Ralph Dibny is free. All you must do is keep him in your mind to save your friend.”

 

“Then how can I not leave?” 

 

Fake Len smiled sadly. “We chose our vessel too well, Barry Allen. We wanted someone selfless and good, who would only use our power the good of mankind.” He reached up to stroke Barry’s cheek. “Go. We’ll help as much as we can.”

 

Barry smiled back, before focusing on the power under his skin. It’d been so long since he’d tapped into the Speed Force. He was almost scared he’d forgotten how. But then, he felt his entire body vibrate, and he was out the door in a flash.

 

* * *

 

Len screamed as pushed against the force of gravity holding him to the chair. It was weaker now that Devoe’s concentration was focused on Barry, but it still hurt like shit. Marlize’s eyes widened when he took one step towards her, then another, but instead of fighting her, he went for the helmet on Barry’s head. 

 

“No!” she shouted. “That’ll kill them both!” 

 

Len didn’t care. Chances were that Barry was already dead, and, on the off chance he wasn’t, leaving Devoe in his head was going to kill him anyway. At least he could avenge Barry by making sure that son of a bitch didn’t make off with the Speed Force. 

 

He grabbed the tube connected to the top and, using all of his might, ripped it out of Barry’s helmet. The second it was free, Barry’s eyes snapped open. Only, Barry wasn’t the one staring at him. 

 

His entire eye was glowing pale blue. Lightning jumped off his body. The helmet  _ melted off his head _ as he sat up slowly. Ralph’s body gasped to life beside him. When he took a look at Barry, he fell off his chair and crawled back towards Joe, now free from Devoe’s powers. 

 

“Holy mother of crap, what the hell is wrong with him?”

 

Yep, Ralph was back. Meaning that Devoe was somewhere inside Barry’s brain still. 

 

“Devoe is gone.” When Barry spoke, it was like a thousand different voices at once, echoing and overlapping. “He sought knowledge to gain godliness, but the only god is  _ Savitar _ .”

 

Before Len could even register Barry moving, he was across the room, in front of Marlize, who was holding a gun on him.

 

“Don’t come any closer…” she warned, but Savitar didn’t even slow. She didn’t even have time to react before Savitar had her by the neck, pushing her against the wall. The gun fell to the floor. 

 

“Barry, son…” Joe called. “Don’t do this. You’ll regret it, I promise. Devoe is gone. She can’t hurt you anymore. Just let her go. Show  _ mercy.” _

 

“There is no mercy,” Savitar hissed, his hand tightening. He raised his other hand which started to vibrate. Len knew he needed to stop Savitar--if what Kara said was true, who knows what a Speed Force entity could do?

 

He grabbed Savitar’s wrist, ignoring the friction burn on his palms. “Barry...Savitar, stop. Please. She may deserve to be punished, but not like this.”

 

Savitar looked to Len, and his expression softened. The other hand released Marlize, who fell to the floor in a heap. Len knelt down beside her to make sure she was okay, helping her to her feet. 

 

“Thank you…” she croaked, but a nasty grin stretched over Savitar’s lips. A blue light shined from behind Len. When he turned, he saw a portal, a  _ breach _ , open, and he knew it was an entrance to the Speed Force. 

 

Without warning, faster than anyone could react, Savitar grabbed Marlize by the arm and threw her inside, her screams echoing as the breach closed. The speedster god smiled, satisfied with his punishment. 

 

“They wanted the Speed Force,” he said. “Now, they have it. Forever.” 

 

Len swallowed hard. This wasn’t Barry anymore. It was some kind of malevolent god-like creature, with no mercy and no remorse. Then, it turned its attention to him. Its expression softened. 

 

“Len…” Savitar whispered, stepping closer. “Leonard Snart.”

 

Len stepped closer, so they were chest-to-chest. “Barry. What happened to you?”

 

“I’m powerful now,” Savitar said. “I can protect all of you. As Savitar, I’m a god.”

Len shook his head. “But at what cost, Scarlet? Your humanity?”

 

“Barry Allen is gone. He sacrificed what he was to stop Devoe, to save his loved ones. To save you.”

 

Tears welled in Len’s eyes. He raised a shaky hand to Barry’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He surged forward to press a kiss to his lover’s lips, flinching with a horrible shot rang out through the room. 

 

Savitar jerked. He staggered back, only now noticing Marlize’s gun missing from the floor, now in Len’s hand. His eyes went to his stomach, to the hole in his shirt, darkening with blood. Len cried as Savitar fell to the floor, his hand against the wound. 

 

“I’m sorry…” he choked out. “I’m so sorry, Scarlet. I’m sorry…”


	10. The darkness lifts at the touch of his fingertips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end :) I hope everyone loves it after that last heartbreaker.

**_One Year Later…_ **

  
  


The Rogue--now renamed  _ Scarlet’s _ \--was bustling. Len didn’t run the business much himself, anymore, but he did the books for Lisa, who was keeping the music going and the drinks flowing. Cisco was at the club every now and then, now that he was engaged to her. They’d met after Len dragged his unconscious body to the club, while Joe waited for the police to show up and take Barry’s body away. 

 

Shawna was at the bar, pouring drinks. Mark was making moves on her, trying to prove that he could take better care of her than any other man could. Mick stayed at Len’s side, like always, although he started spending more and more time at Danvers and Dibny Investigations since the former started sporting a diamond on her left ring finger. 

 

Mick was one hell of a romantic, after all, and she was a regular Amazon princess to him after she saved his life. He doted on her endlessly, which made Len both happy and slightly nauseous. 

 

Joe...well, he and Len put their differences aside, especially for Hartley and Wally’s sakes. Hart was practically family to him, and with him and the youngest West getting serious, Joe and Len knew that they had to accept each other as part of their lives. It’s what Barry would’ve wanted.

 

He visited Barry’s grave every day. It still hurt--each and every time he thought of him, that deafening gunshot echoed in his ears, and he could see Barry falling dead to the floor. He knew it wasn’t really Barry anymore, but that didn’t make any of it easier. He loved Barry in a way that he’d never loved another living soul. He was a part of him, always would be. He knew that Barry would never have wanted him to dwell, his heart to linger on the love they’d shared, but how could it not? Barry was the first person to ever see him for more than what he was. He was the first one who accepted him, as is, who saw right through his mask to the real Len underneath. 

 

Sometimes, he’d sit in his apartment, listening to his Edith Piaf record on repeat, wondering why he didn’t just buy two more tickets to Paris and run away with him.

 

One day, he received a letter from City Hall, personally inviting him to meet with the mayor. Any other time, he would’ve laughed and tossed it. But, knowing what he did about Thawne, knowing his connection to Barry, he tentatively accepted.

 

Thawne looked more than a little worse for wear when Len stepped into the office. His face was slightly sunken, he was pale, his bright blonde hair was starting to look dingy. Len blew out a low whistle. 

 

“Damn, and I thought this past year was hard on  _ me. _ ”

 

Thawne raised an eyebrow. “Since Barry’s death, we’ve all suffered a heavy blow. The Speed Force has yet to choose another vessel, weakening our ties to it. I’ve been connected a lot longer than say a speedster like Wally West, so it’s affecting me stronger.”

 

Len nodded. “I can tell. You look like shit.”

 

“I feel like shit.” Thawne smiled tightly. “That’s not what I wanted to discuss with you, Snart.”

 

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth. He held it fondly. “I know you probably think that Barry and I were enemies--we were, at times--but Barry Allen was also the closest thing I ever had to a friend.”

 

He rose from his seat, cradling the object in his hands like it was something precious. “Many years ago, before I was mayor, I lived in a house on the outskirts of town. It was a big house, hidden in the woods. A family house. One night, I was walking down the street when the strangest thing happened--a lightning storm came out of nowhere. It’s how I got my powers.

 

“But that’s not the important part. The important part is that down the road in front of me, lightning struck a car and knocked it into a tree. Damndest thing after that though--this kid appeared in the middle of the street in a flash of yellow lightning.”

 

Len’s eyes widened, and Eobard nodded. “I know. I never told Barry that I was the one who called the cops, and he doesn’t remember that I was the one who checked on his parents, who stayed with him until Joe got there. I never told him. But, I did keep something from that night--the night that changed both of our lives forever.” 

 

He unwrapped the cloth. It was a pearl ring, clean and sparkling like it was brand new. He’d only seen the ring once, six years ago, when Barry showed him a picture of his mother.

 

“I found this a few days later. I guess the cops missed it when they took his parents away. I’ve kept it all these years as a reminder of how connected Barry Allen and I are.”

 

“Were,” Len corrected, accepting the cloth. 

 

Eobard chuckled and shook his head. “Never took you for someone who gives up easily, Snart.” 

 

“He’s dead. I shot him myself. There’s nothing left to fight for.” Was there? No, he couldn’t hope. He couldn’t bear the thought. “Even if what was left of Barry was somewhere, lost in the Speed Force, it wouldn’t be him anymore. It would just be some echo, an essence of him.”

 

Eobard raised an eyebrow. “That wouldn’t be enough for you?”

 

_ It’d be more than enough to see him again _ . “No,” he lied. “Barry is gone. What’s done is done. I’m not doing some half-assed speedster séance.” 

 

Eobard nodded, before turning to walk back to his desk. “I heard you renamed your club. ‘Scarlet’s’.” 

 

“Not mine anymore,” Len replied, ready to get the rest of the conversation over with so he could leave. “Lisa’s running the club. I’m just doing some of the business.”

 

Eobard hummed. “You’ll have to let me know when you have an event. I’d love to drop by.”

 

Fat chance. “We’d be glad to have you.” He turned to leave, not even waiting to exchange pleasantries. 

 

He tucked the ring into the breast pocket, right in front of his heart, and slowly made his way back to the club. He stopped at Barry’s favorite sandwich place for lunch--just eating there made him feel like everything was okay, even if the place was a dive--and leisurely strolled back. Lisa asked him to cover auditions for singers that afternoon, and just the thought of listening to a bunch of caterwauling wannabes gave him a migraine.

 

When he stepped inside, Hartley was waiting at the podium. He had an uncomfortable smile on his face. 

 

“Hey, Cold…”

 

Len sighed. “What is it now?”

 

“Well, I know you told me before you left to move the auditions to six, but some kid dropped by and he said that he didn’t have anywhere else to be, so I let him wait inside…”

 

_ “ _ _ Yes you're lovely _ _ ,”  _ a voice crooned from the lounge, _ “ _ _ never, ever change _ _ , _

_ Keep that breathless charm. _

_ Won't you please arrange it? _

_ 'Cause I love you _

_ Just the way you look tonight.” _

 

It was the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard. Like a siren singing, or an angel. He followed the voice inside, and his heart nearly stopped. His hair was longer. His face had some scruff. But, standing on the stage was definitely…

 

“Barry?”

 

The man stopped as soon as he heard Len’s voice. Instead of a cheeky smile, though, or an eye roll for messing up his song, Barry’s eyes widened and he nervously stumbled back. 

 

“Mr. Snart!” he exclaimed, climbing off the stage. “I’m so sorry, sir. Hartley told me that you would be a while, so I thought I’d practice.” 

 

He stretched out his hand. “My name’s Max Crandall. My stage name is Max Mercury, though.” Len frowned. He wasn’t sure what was happening. The man in front of him was absolutely Barry Allen unless there was some evil twin out there they didn't know about. Then, he thought back to his conversation with Thawne. 

 

That damn sentimental son of a bitch. 

 

He took Barr-- _ Max’s  _ hand and smiled. “No apologies needed, Mr. Mercury. I was enjoying the song. If you would continue?”

 

He took a seat in front of the stage as Max moved back into place and continued his song. Sure, it wasn’t his Barry. He wouldn’t know about Len’s love of Edith Piaf, or about being a private investigator. He wouldn’t know about Devoe, or the Santini’s, or how easily Len could take him apart with a kiss. 

 

But maybe that was okay. They could have it all over again. Only, this time, Len was thinking about starting in Paris. 

 

**end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading!


End file.
